#tap girl... save me.. tap girl... save me tap girl...
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i'd like to report a crime - Leon Kennedy/Reader
read it on Ao3.
Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader
Tags: anxious work stress + leon comfort!!, leon being a fucking goober
Notes: when i'm at work I'm always picturing him swooping in to save me...... leon kennedy if you can hear me please protect me from 9-5 hell... and like I said before, I would LOVE requests or prompts for this fic, I have so many ideas but I can't commit to any of them lol.
Standing in the bullpen at work today, you had a thought. Maybe they called it “medieval torture” because that was a whole lot catchier than “a shitty day at the busiest police precinct in Washington DC.”
It certainly felt like medieval torture to you. Before you’d even stepped into your big girl pants this morning, you knew that today was going to suck. Plain and simple. Suck. Yet another presidential event was bringing the Secret Service’s jurisdiction into your already hectic station, meaning that big square dudes in suits were going to be breathing down your neck until quitting time. You had three huge active cases that needed your attention. One of those cases came pre-packaged with a deeply annoying lawyer, who, in your professional opinion, has his head shoved a foot up his ass. He will absolutely be showing up to bother you today.
And worst of all: in your haste to get to work (Leon had put some serious effort into making you late), you’d accidentally worn a pair of super uncomfortable shoes! So now every waking moment of your existence was bonafide torture.
Clamping your jaw, you glance up from the paperwork in front of you and check your watch. Three o’clock. Right, okay, you can work with that.
You slap your hands down on your desk as you push out of your seat, and it gets a satisfying yelp out of the man sitting cross-legged beside it. He bristles up like a porcupine and nasally complains, “Where are you going, Detective Kennedy? You said we could—”
“Coffee, Douglas,” you bite back to said lawyer.
The last thing you want right now is some of the lousy, watered-down coffee from the station’s breakroom, but taking mini-breaks at your desk is just not an option anymore. Douglas has been camped out there from the moment you clocked in, and since you both refuse to budge, he’s going to stay there. Breakroom it is. You wince the whole way there, cursing your shoes from hell.
Someone forgot to start another pot of joe, so you have the absolute pleasure of doing it yourself. A small blessing in disguise, really. You give the glass pot your best thousand-yard-stare the whole time it heats the water, and just when the outline of it is starting to burn behind your eyelids, you’re jolted out of your glazed reverie by a cheerful, “Detective Kennedy!”
The officer appears at your side like she was there the entire time, and you wouldn’t put it past her—Giana is the latest in a long line of rookies who have imprinted on you over the years. Good kid, but a little on the overeager side.
She gives you a sympathetic frown and launches into way too much bubbly talking for your aching head to handle. “Heyo! Man, it’s crazy today, huh? You look beat, detective. Hey, think of it this way—just a few more hours and we’ll be home free! Any fun plans tonight?”
The question triggers a movie-style flashback sequence in your mind, complete with black-and-white visuals and some tasteful dream fog. Leon, your husband, boredly poking around the aisles of a new Target by your place. Leon discovering the boys' toy section. Leon, your beautiful, amazing husband, going starry-eyed at the massive NERF Elite Titan CS-50 Toy Blaster, which you’re pretty sure you need a license to operate.
He’d tapped the Nerf box like a boy on Christmas morning. “150 foam bullets, baby.”
But it would take a lot of energy to relay all of that to Giana. So instead of explaining that you’re having an epic Nerf duel with Leon when you get home (no headshots, loser makes dinner), you cooly answer: “...Spending time with my husband.”
Giana hums. “It’s so weird to me that you’re married…” (Thanks.) “I can’t even picture you not grinding away at some case.”
The coffee machine burbles out its last sad spit of coffee. You pour a good amount into your mug, smiling, “Oh, Leon’s just as bad. We’re both married to our work. He’s just my favorite mistress, s’all.”
Giana opens her mouth to launch into another cheery tirade you can’t catch up with. You like the girl, but on top of being way too eager, she’s also painfully see-through. For example, you don’t even have to turn around to know that a gloriously hot guy has just walked into the bullpen behind you. It’s written all over Giana’s owlish look over your shoulder. Hell, you can even clock that he’s heading straight this way—not only does Giana cross herself to bid away impure thoughts of the stranger, but she evaporates into smoke out of pure shyness.
“Look out!” She stage-whispers.
Aw. Poor girl, you think as she waddles away. Considering who’s going to be unloading a clip of foam bullets into you later this evening, (what a strange double entendre), you’re basically immune to hot guys. You can handle this.
“Excuse me, detective, I’d like to report a crime?”
All sense of professionalism poofs off your face at that familiar voice. You whirl to face your husband, and in one swift slash, the ten ton weight of your stress is slapped clean off your back.
Leon’s resting stare has slowly been absorbed by his Serious Agent Face. But today, he’s smoldering less in the business way and more in the off-duty model way. In a white tee, jeans, and racing-striped leather jacket, he certainly looks the part, clean-shaven and dewy-skinned. Fuck him and his unblemished skin. What Umbrella moisturizer was he using back in the day, dammit?
You’re capable of joking again and fall flawlessly into the bit. “Of course. What kind of crime, beautiful?”
He isn’t really able to look flustered, but you think you get close to the impossible with the way his head tilts at that line. You notice that he’s hiding something behind his back.
“A theft,” he answers. The tiniest smirk twitches on his mouth. “My heart’s been stolen.”
…What a fucking cornball. The tragic part is that you find the joke pretty funny, and not completely in the ironic way. He waits for you to giggle and twirl your hair or what-the-fuck-ever, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction, ducking into his quick hug to grin into his shoulder.
You groan at his awful joke. “Jesus. You need a fork for all that corn, Leon?”
“I take mine off the cob,” he drawls in your ear. With that voice, he could make anything sound suggestive.
You’re about to pout at him for failing to return your hug, when you draw back and see that his hands are full. It’s then that Leon presents his bounty to you, bowing his head and holding his trophies aloft like a knight giving respect to his princess: in one hand, one of the stupid expensive coffees you like, and in the other… your comfiest work flats.
“How?” is the first thing your fish brain manages to say. Because, truly, how does he always know? The coffee, the shoes— “Did you put a tracker in me? One that tells you everything I’ve been complaining about all day?”
You go slumping down into the nearest seat, mystified by him. Leon sets the still-steaming coffee down in front of you and kneels, stooping to help you out of your shoes-from-hell. The strap around your ankle has rubbed the bone raw even through your tights. He gets the clasp loose on the first shoe with little fussing, then soothes the skin with tender brushes of his thumb.
“Mhm,” he hums. All you can see of him from this angle is the layers of color in his hair, deep browns and ash blondes blending into one another. The smug pride in his voice is obvious—he loves knowing he’s read you well. “Tells me when you’re hungry, too. Have lunch with me?”
Please god, your body begs. Just picturing it loosens some of the tension in your neck. Like last time, the two of you would play-fight over where to eat, and your cute little delivery boy would go pick up the winner. That way, you wouldn’t have to waste a single moment of your allotted thirty-minute lunch. Leon would pull up a seat at your desk (maybe scare Douglas off with a flash of his badge), and you’d get a blissful, uninterrupted dose of him. Enough to get you through the rest of your shift.
He’d be too deep in Professional Agent Mode to babble like he does at home, but Leon’s raspy chuckles and his hand on your knee would tide you over til’ five.
…But no, the universe is never that kind to you. You wince at Leon’s offer and drop an apologetic hand to his shoulder, still knelt at your feet and working on your other shoe. He’s too good to you. “M’ sorry, baby, but I think I’m gonna have to work through lunch if I wanna get home on time. Rain check?”
He doesn’t mind. He throws a squinty warning stare your way, not happy that you’re getting dangerously close to overworking yourself, but he understands.
A sly smile creeps onto Leon’s face as he helps you slip on a flat. “I could talk to your Captain. What if you were pulled away for a ‘federal emergency?’”
“Then I think me and my Captain would implode from stress,” you laugh. “He’d think I’d been drawn into some national crisis or something.”
Leon scoffs. “That’s only happened, like, once.”
The other flat welcomes your poor, aching foot like a jacuzzi hot tub, and you take a deep magical sip of the overpriced coffee he got special for you. It trumps the watery breakroom joe any day.
For a minute you’re so stupidly happy that you could easily punch a boulder clean off a cliff. Hell, you might even twirl your hair.
“One too many times!” You groan. Since he’s being all cute and kneeling at your feet, you can’t resist poking him a couple of times to be silly. In the chest. In the cheek. In the heart. Stage-whispering, you accuse, “I think you just like having excuses to work with me.”
Leon finishes helping you into your shoes, but he’s in no hurry to leave his spot. One of his rough hands finds yours in your lap and toys with your wedding band, twisting it, testing the groove where it’s been sitting for a few years now. Those big blue eyes fix on your face. You’re married to the guy, but something about being the subject of all his naked attention makes you feel like shrieking into a damn pillow. He’s the best. Judging by that mean little smile on his face, he knows it’s true.
He gives your hand a little squeeze and points out, “I was your partner before anyone else. We never got our buddy cop beat—so yes, I will shove myself into your world since I can’t pull you into mine.”
You’re grateful he still thinks that way. Getting him to talk about Raccoon is harder than pulling teeth, but this—your partnership, whether that be as cops in an imaginary second life, or as husband and wife—never fails to pry him right open.
You’d been asked before if it was frustrating, how your paths had split after the city had blown. The two of you had come from the same spot and endured the same things, but where Leon had soared up, you’d kept to what you knew. No part of you envied him for it. In his mind, the two of you were still the same unit you’d been then, endlessly loyal to one another. You watched Leon’s back and—clearly, he watched yours.
“You’re my favorite,” you tell him, sweetly petting his chin. “I’m gonna fucking destroy you at our Nerf duel when I get home.”
All the buttery tenderness wipes from his face, and in an instant he’s on his feet, clapping a scarred hand down onto your shoulder and bending to whisper fiercely in your ear. “I’d like to see you try.”
He smushes a kiss to your cheek, waves a friendly, “See ya,” and melts back into the current of the rowdy bullpen. You hate to see him leave, but by god, you love to watch him go.
A few seconds after Leon says his goodbye, Giana, your rookie, peers around the open door of the break room. Her patchy blush goes all the way down to her uniform collar. “...Nevermind. I can definitely picture you married, Detective Kennedy…”
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Ask to be added to my Leon taglist!
#leon kennedy drabble#leon kennedy/reader#leon kennedy x reader#uncouthre#leon kennedy#resident evil#user uncouth
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best interest p.sh
pairing: park sunghoon x fem! reader
warnings: smut, zestyish jokes (Jake and sunghoon are basically In love idk), cursing, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it!!), kinda mean? dom sunghoon, pervert sunghoon, slight choking, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything!
minors dni!!
Friday 6:10 pm
what sunghoon didn't expect was to fall in love with you, living together just made him crazy, seeing you walk around in a big tee with just panties under?? yeah. "She won't even let jay hit" sunghoon ranted to his friend on facetime, "maybe shes a virgin and she's saving it for someone special" Jake replied, placing a kiss on his girlfriends head turning off his mic. "I'm someone special!" Hoon whined throwing his phone on his bed, "I guess not to her" Jake turned his mic back on snickering. "Should I fuck her best friend to get revenge.." he started questioning his own existence, hes never been this crazy over someone. did you cast a love spell on him or something? "her best friend is haechan" Jake set up his phone on the table, showing him as he put his headphones on and turning on his console. "ok nevermind. would rather kiss you than fuck haechan" "you would kiss me?" "hell no." "then why say it you got my hopes up" "..jake shut the fuck up" Jake laughs as the light from his computer reflected on his face. "yk what you should do, try and seduce her" he proposed, "that doesn't sound that bad, how would I even do that" sunghoon replies, finally picking his phone up from the bed to walk into the kitchen. "mmm, since y'all live together try walking around like shirtless or like... loudly jerking off??" Jake bit his nails while thinking, "holy shit your gonna make me get a restraining order" sunghoon laughed out loud, hearing the door unlock he quickly hung up and texted Jake "she's home, gonna take ur advice istg if she calls the cops on me you'll never see ur stupid apex acc again."
Friday 8:56 pm
he was nervous, obviously. he wasn't nervous about how he looked, he knew he looked good. he was just nervous on how your reaction would be, he hyped himself up in his room for a bit. doing some pushups till he walked out of his room shirtless knowing your in the kitchen, "yn" he spoke out to you, making you turn around to look at him. "why are u naked" was the first thing you said to him since you got home. "gonna take a shower, u cooking anything?" "Nah, I'm ordering food I'm just in here eating chips", clearly looking unfazed, "should we order something then?" He replied. Walking into the kitchen, sweats hanging low. Showing a obvious bulge, "I'll just get pizza u go take a shower, you stink like sweat" you looked away from his piercing gaze. He chuckled, "mm, ok let me know when the food comes I'll get it" he says while walking away and into the bathroom, quickly locking it and holding his head in his hands.
sunghoon : She won't even look at me 😭😭💔💔💔💔💔😢
Jake : maybe ur js butt ugly.
sunghoon : this is not helping idiot
Jake : did u walk around shirtless 🌚
sunghoon : YES BRO. even wore my baggy jeans to show extra 🤬😡
Jake : what if she's into girls...omg sunghoon I'm cooking here
sunghoon : only thing ur cooking is that burnt ass hair.
Jake : fuck u times 10 😒
sunghoon : u wanna fuck me 🌚
Jake : my gf just saw that msg without seeing the name I hope yn never ends up liking you.
sunghoon : CHILL BRO
he took a shower while blasting music, thinking on what his next plan was. he got out of the shower, black hair dripping water as he wrapped a towel around his waist. he looked in the mirror as he thought of a idea, he picked up his phone as some random rap song played, he took a picture shirtless. Sending it to Jake to confirm if it was cute or not.
sunghoon : *image attached*
Jake : wrong person
sunghoon : u fucking airhead is it cute or not
Jake : oh LMFAOOO
Jake : it's cute, who's it for
sunghoon : baefy yn
Jake : atp send her a dick pic
sunghoon : should i
Jake : yea if u wanna get blocked
as he turned his music off he heard you yelling for him from the living room. He quickly threw on his boxers and sweats, getting out as he put his phone in his pocket. "what's wrong?" He asked standing Infront of you, once again. Wearing baggy sweats but instead of them damn near falling off they are tied with the string. "do u not have any shirts or something, also the pizzas here" you handed him the money for the tip, he grabs it and walks to the door. "thanks" he smiled at the young woman handing him the pizza who was basically drooling. "can I get your number" she sheepishly asked. You looked at them in disgust, looking at the girl as sunghoon laughed and said no. He closed the door, walking back over to you, flopping on the couch and putting the pizza on the table. "why didn't you give her your number?" You asked, "wasn't interested" he shrugged, picking up a piece of pizza. Watching whatever you put on. "Lame."
Saturday 10:43 pm
he was hard. Extremely horny. to the point where he thought he might cum at barely sliding down his shorts. he thought back to the call he had with Jake yesterday, "jerk off loudly, yeah if I wanna be seen as a perv" he scoffed and slid down his shorts and boxers in one go. thinking if he should get off to a picture of you or just some random video on pornhub, he decided on a random video on pornhub. last thing he wants to be is a pervert (even tho he already jerks off to your pictures anyways..) he whined softly as he held his dick in his hand. fuck it. He loaded in on Instagram and stalked your account as his hand slid up and down his shaft. soft moans escaping his throat while looking through your highlights till he found his favorite picture, one of you and him at the beach. bathing suit top hugging your chest so well, making sunghoon's hand go faster on his already red cock, precum dribbling out his slit. His finger accidentally slipping and liking the year old photo. Shit. Shit shit shit. just as he was freaking out his load started shooting out, landing on his black shirt and blankets. his moan was loud, extremely loud. He only realized till after calming down from his high that 1. He sounded like a porn film and 2. He liked your story. He cleaned himself off with the shirt he was wearing, taking it off and throwing it in his laundry basket. Pulling his boxers and shorts up, grabbing another shirt from his drawer. just as he put his shirt on he heard his door swing open, "why you stalking me" you smirked at sunghoon, sitting on his chair in his room. "wasnt stalking you" he side eyed you as he continued to put on his shirt, looking down to notice a cum stain on his shorts cursing to himself, "I needa change my shorts. U gonna stay or what" he asked, looking at you. you turned around in the spin chair, he quickly took off his shorts and grabbed another pair. Putting them on and laying on his bed, "you can look now" he said, picking up his phone to see who texted him. "sunghoon" you called out to him, scooting closer to the bed until you gave up and laid on the bed next to him, "hm?" He replied. Sending a quick text to Jake and going on TikTok, "you should be quieter when you jerk off. not everyone wants to hear that when they wanna call their friend" you smiled at him teasingly as he looked at you before flicking your head with the same hand he used to jerk off with. You got up from his bed and left, sunghoon closed his door with his foot , sending another text to Jake. "Your dead meat."
Thursday 12:29 am
it's been 4 days since he started trying to seduce you, key word. Trying. everytime he jerked off you would just ignore it, same with him walking around in just sweats. he's at the point where he might as well walk around naked, he let our a frustrated sigh as he stood up from his bed. going to your room to get his charger that he lent you a few hours prior, maybe god was on his side or he was just lucky as hell. He opened the door to see you fucking yourself on a dildo. He feels like he could die from happiness right now, you were quick to slide the dildo out of you and cover yourself up. "Oh. My bad" he said, grabbing his charger from your side table. Your face was red, "sunghoon" you quietly called out. "what? ur not done with the charger?" He asked, looking at you covered by your purple sheets. You shook your head, "you wanna help?" you asked, uncovering your body.
Thursday 9:12am
he really has to stop dreaming of you. He woke up hard as shit, all because of that stupid dream. Like he would walk in on your masturbating? Yeah right. He sat up from his bed and groggily walked into the kitchen, he ignored you as he grabbed a water bottle and chugged it. You were quick to notice the very obvious bulge, swallowing your spit while you looked at his back. imagining how it would look after you scratched it during sex. Or how his hands would feel on your body, how his fingers would feel inside of you. Ok yn. Enough of these lewd thoughts. That's your friend your thinking of, your really hot friend. "u wanna make breakfast?" he said, his hot breath on your neck. you felt goosebumps, how did he get behind you so quick? the hell? "not hungry right now so no" you answered, not daring to turn around. "But I'm hungry" he mumbled resting his head on your shoulder. "Make your own food loser" you quickly spoke, moving quick to your room. he smirked to himself, he finally got to you. He's definitely gonna tell Jake about this.
Thursday 5:01 pm
"yn" you hummed as you focused on your show. "Are you a virgin" he asked, you nearly choke on your spit. "What kind of question is that?" You stare at him in shock. Sunghoon shrugged, not looking away from the tv. "Are you?" He asked again. "No sunghoon. I'm not a virgin. Are you?" You spoke with a small attitude in your voice, "nope" he replied, popping the p. "Are you lesbian?" He asked another question. "no. What the hell are these questions??" You shifted your whole body towards him. "So why don't you look my way." He finally looked at you, once again. Staring with a piercing gaze. "What do you mean by that" you know exactly what he means. "Why don't you show any interest in me" the fuck? You always show interest in him, why do you think you wear just shirts around the house? "I do" doesn't seem like it. "I like you yn." He finally expressed his feelings that were making him go insane. "me too" your voice was barley heard, "you like yourself too?" He smiled and chuckled softly. "No I like you too" you smiled back, feeling shy at the sudden confessions. "You know I love you" he said, scooting closer. Holding your face as he pressed a soft kiss on your lips, "I would hope so, why are you saying it so early though" you snickered, "cause I'm about to fuck you like I don't" his smile was so innocent you almost didn't register what he said, he's gonna fuck you like he doesn't? Hell yeah.
Thursday 5:30 pm
your not sure how you ended up in sunghoon's bed, laying on your back as he slurped up your juices. Spewing random shit as he ate you out, "been waiting like...months for this moment" his chin was glistening from eating you out. Sticking two fingers inside to bring you closer to your climax, and you were quick to hit it. Gripping onto his hand that was sliding in and out of you, helping you ride your high out. "that was good huh?" He smiled up at you. giving him a tired nod, he slipped his fingers out of you and sat up. Kissing your lips before sticking his fingers in your mouth to taste yourself, he was different from any other men you've slept with. No man would do this, besides sunghoon apparently. He took his fingers out of your mouth after you sucked them clean, praising you softly as he pulled his boxers down. Slapping his dick on your pussy, "you ready?" You nodded. He entered slowly, groaning out while you pulled him down to hold onto him. Clawing on his back, when he fully bottomed out you realized he was huge. Like 6 inches huge. Sliding back out just to thrust back in, he kept his quite fast pace while you rambled about something he wasn't paying attention to. only thing he was focused on was how good you felt around him, almost too good. "fuck, gonna cum soon if you keep clenching like that" he moaned out, kissing your cheek as he whined and moaned in your ear. "sunghoon" you sighed out, "yeah baby?" he answered. Lifting himself up, keeping his hands on your tits as you rambled about how good he felt. "I know love" he hummed back, sliding out. "doggy style baby" you were quick to get into the position and he was quick to slide right back in, you felt him deeper than you did just a few seconds ago. Arms already weak, making sunghoon hold you up. He was hitting places you didn't even know he could hit, "already fucked out?" He snickered, his hand snaking up to your neck to apply pressure. you immediately felt yourself let go and cum, "i-im cumming" you whined out, holding onto his arm. "I know" He replied, letting you go to fall onto the bed. fucking you harder than he already was, "gonna cum inside n ruin you for every other man" he grunted in your ear,trying to chase his own high. "fuck, taking it so well. who fucks you the best?" He moaned, "y-you" you were extremely sensitive, you felt another climax coming. it came too fast to even warn sunghoon, all he felt was tons of juice on his abs and hips. "Holy shit you just squirted" he spoke in pure shock, still fucking you as he praises you. you were a mess, tears were streaming down your cheeks as sunghoon finally came inside, "m' cumming pretty" he sighed out as he came, rocking his hips slowly. "you did so good for me baby" he slid out and kneeled down, he was quick to latch onto your pussy to clean you up. "w-wait sunghoon" you gasped out, "I'm almost done love" he reassured you, he was right. He had fully cleaned you up and laid down beside you, holding you softly. placing kisses on your face, both of you falling asleep
Friday 10:13 am
yeah. His back does look hot with a bunch of scratch marks. "does your back hurt?" You asked, embarrassed from how many there are. "nah, even if it did I think it would be worth it" he smiled as he poured coffee for you, kissing your forehead and placing a arm around your waist. maybe Jake was right, after all his advice did get sunghoon here.
#jistagrams rants#kpop#kpop smut#sunghoon#sunghoon smut#sunghoon hard thoughts#sunghoon hard hours#enhypen#fyp#tumblr fyp#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut
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Headcanons - The Ultimate Combo!
Brozone - drastically changed their looks coz they hate that they used to dress the same.
Brozone - All the brothers definitely hold doors open for the ladies and then close it on John Dory.
Brozone - All of the brothers share habits and mannerisms without even realising. E.g. tapping their chin when they're thinking hard, cracking knuckles when they're about to really get into a project, tapping toes when anxious.
Brozone - they became world famous, argued and left BEFORE the cage went around the Pop Troll Tree. (Canon?)
Brozone - there was a rumoured 'unfinished' Brozone song that was supposed to be released after that tour. John finally finishes it and the brothers offer to sing it for Poppy's bridal entrance song. Poppy immediately faints. In my head the song is 'Helpless When She Smiles' by The Backstreet Boys
Brozone - whatever the Trolls equivalent of the Superbowl is, I feel like Bruce and JD would be very into it. Jerseys and face paint and everything.
Brozone - when the brothers weren't sure how to reconnect, they ended up playing rummy together.
Bruce - one of those dads who would get a new barbeque and show off all the cool features to the other local dads.
Bruce - "No kids, we're not keeping that stray animal, end of story, no way..." - 1 week later and he's giving it kisses and building it an over the top kennel with a heated blanket and a water fountain.
Bruce - (canon?) carried all their eggs, indirect reason why his hair is so big. (Side note - I read somewhere someone called all their kids 'The Bakers Dozen' and I frigging love that)
Bruce - absolutely gets into the trashiest reality TV shows. "If Alejandro doesn't confess his love in this episode I will flip this table"
Bruce - makes Troll cuisine for his kids
Bruce - there aren't any Troll sized clothing stores around so Bruce sometimes has to make his own clothes.
Bruce - has considered getting his kids hug time bracelets
Bruce - the restaurants kitchen is set up like in Ratatouille (ladders, ramps, bridges, pulley systems) for Bruce to navigate.
Bruce - keeps every one of his kids drawings, their refrigerator is absolutely covered in them.
Bruce - his go-to excuse is "I can't, I've got 13 college tuitions to save for."
Bruce - has given 'love coupons' to Brandy before
Bruce - theorizes that his daughter LaBreezy will be the one to take over the restaurant.
Bruce - tries developing and inventing his own recipes, Brandy has to remind him that not everyone can handle as much sugar as a Troll can. He reels it back a bit.
Bruce - makes specific food for different reasons. E.g. makes bread when he's angry so he can take it out on the dough, makes lasagnas so he can use the leftovers as an excuse to visit someone, makes spicy dishes when he wants revenge.
Bruce - cameras make him self-conscious. If he is in a group he can tolerate it but hates being the only one in the photo.
Bruce - has caught his kids trying to do the Brozone dance routines. He tries to stay out of it best he can and let them have their fun but then they ask him to teach them and doesn't he just melt.
Bruce - has a wedding ring but it is Vacationer sized. He keeps it in his hair mostly but will braid it into his hair like an accessory for special occasions.
Bruce - 100% certain Poppy and Branch's first born would be a boy. "We're a family of five brothers! It took Brandy and I thirteen tries to have a daughter. Trust me, I have no doubt your first egg will absolutely be a boy." *They have a girl* Bruce 😑
Bruce - all the kids now request Brozone songs instead of lullabies.
Bruce - opened the restaurant before he met Brandy. Used all the money he had left from Brozone to open it.
Bruce - teaches his kids about body positivity.
Bruce - mortifies his kids by trying to use slang. "That was so very lit!" "Daaaaaaaaaadddddd"
Bruce - just starts being a Dad to everyone without realizing it e.g. cuts food into smaller bites, starts randomly folding people's clothes, licking his finger and wiping food off faces, always having snacks and bandaids in his hair.
Bruce - sleeps wearing a hair bonnet and continues his extensive skincare routine into adulthood.
Bruce - grew a full beard once. Then he had babies. They became obsessed with pulling his beard. No more beard.
Bruce - his kids have buried him in the sand more times than he cares to admit.
Bruce - has attempted to set up John Dory on a date with Brandy's sister.
Bruce - kept having kids because he and Brandy wanted at least one daughter. When they finally had LaBreezy they decided to stop.
Bruce - learned to surf to get Brandy's attention when they first met. Ended up falling in love with surfing before Brandy fell for him. 😁
Bruce - can and will reorganize someone else's kitchen to what he deems is more efficient.
Bruce - always the first to volunteer to babysit other Troll's kids. Not that he doesn't appreciate his own children, he just loves being about to dote on kids he can actually hold on his hip and carry in his hair. Just being able to do the little Troll things he can't do with his own giant kids.
Bruce - noone on the island knew about his 'past life' except for Brandy. (Canon?)
Bruce - has the world's best hangover cure but it's a secret.
Bruce - there have been times when he has muddled up his kids names and he hates himself every time.
Floyd - his hair is naturally pink but JD made him make it redder because 'we're a boyband and pink is a girls colour'
Floyd - absolutely judges you for your star sign
Floyd - knows exactly how to pop away that pain is someones back/shoulder/hips. Grabs JDs shoulder "Relax John. After three. One...two.." CRACK
Floyd - moves back to Pop Village for what JD calls 'early retirement' works in a sort of wellness center that has music therapy and yoga and stuff.
Floyd - in a desperate last resort he once mentioned he was part of Brozone to be noticed by a music producer. It's one of his biggest regrets.
Floyd - has volunteered at homeless shelters and performed at benefit concerts.
Floyd - was 100% sure he was going to die in the bottle. He now has a new outlook on life after being given a second chance.
Floyd - wants a long term relationship but is afraid of getting attached and being used.
Floyd - practices advanced yoga
Floyd - has developed claustrophobia
Floyd - released one solo album, one limited run, it was mentioned he is a former member Brozone on the cover to boost sales. It was a flop. This crushed Floyd.
Floyd - plans to get more body mods in the future.
Floyd - when asked about his past he describes it as 'colourful'. People are yet to find out what he means by this.
Floyd - kept two copies of his own album. He was going to give the other to Grandma Rosiepuff for her collection.
Floyd - when performing solo he does 10 push ups and drinks tea before going on stage. (Apparently Troye Sivan does this and I could see Floyd doing it too 😁)
Floyd - has tried on dresses and corsets before. Prefers overskirts.
Floyd - in a desperate attempt to try and forget V&V, Floyd nearly shaved his head.
Floyd - he actually wrote all of those songs for Velvet and Veneer!
Floyd - after the Mount Rageous incident he gets a little bit reckless without realizing it. He has an "I just survived death so cliff jumping isn't scary anymore' kinda attitude.
Floyd - can read palms and tarot cards.
Floyd - went through the seven stages of grief over his own death.
Floyd - can mix drinks. Messily. Was dating a bartender once and picked up some things from him.
Floyd - used to busk to earn extra cash (based on that one concept art)
Floyd - felt he needed to start a solo career because he wrote a lot of songs that JD didn't pay attention to.
Floyd - did in fact live with the other Troll tribes for a while. Hard Rock Trolls were the last ones he met. This was where he met his manager/mentor.
Floyd - high pain tolerance and godlike levels of patience.
Floyd - has been to rehab for hard candy, is currently 10 years sober. Now advocates for health and wellness in Pop Village.
Floyd - Broke up with several ex's when he found they were all only using him for his fame. 💔
Floyd - can only sleep comfortably near an open window. Sometimes can only sleep sitting up.
Floyd - will randomly stare off into space or mutter to himself.
Floyd - *clears throat* I ship Floom! 💕🏳️🌈
Floyd - can't stick to new hobbies for very long, he hyperfixates for a week or two then gets bored. Macrame, candle making, soap making, jewelry making, photography are some examples.
Floyd - did a few red carpet appearances during his solo era, he felt very out of place. @ssippingwaterfalls 💕
John Dory - has embarrassing baby pictures of his brothers as leverage
John Dory - over-exaggerates his retellings of stories "I fought off 30 no no no 40 snakes with one hand behind my back."
John Dory - always casually asking Poppy, Brandy and Viva to marry him, over small things too "Brandy, these pancakes are delicious, marry me."
John Dory - freaky level spice tolerance, looks people in their teary eyes as he bites a raw ghost pepper
John Dory - says "Gotta get home to the missus" when referring to Rhonda
John Dory - narrates himself "Against all odds, the brave and handsome Troll was able to tame the ferocious beast" he says as he's washing a purring Rhonda
John Dory - the Uncle that buys Bruce's kids toys that are either loud or that make a huge mess
John Dory - didn't finish school, made sure his brothers did
John Dory - has not kept track of his age and is in denial when people remind him.
John Dory - met Rhonda when she eats him. He just walks right out the door confused.
John Dory - has been arrested before, he changes the reason everytime someone asks.
John Dory - occasionally uses 'chewing tobacco' (which honestly in the Trolls-verse would be some kinda chewing gum 😂)
John Dory - serial flirt (very bad at it, he thinks he's great at it)
John Dory - does weird stuff because of his isolation e.g. will eat what's left over on the plates when Bruce's customers leave, will ask when the baby's due but they're just overweight, will go into detail about gutting a fish in front of Trollings.
John Dory - can open a wine/champagne bottle with his machete and light a match with his teeth
John Dory - does not own pyjamas, falls asleep in what he wore that day.
John Dory - has a midlife crisis when all the Trollings in Pop village thought he was Branch's dad.
John Dory - has had several concussions and plenty of broken bones. Got very good at applying first aid to himself.
John Dory - makes his own Moonshine
John Dory - sworn off ever having children.
John Dory - pretty scrappy at self defence, can hold his own when boxing.
John Dory - always has some kind of weapon on him at all times.
John Dory - tends to manspread when sitting.
John Dory - has been targeted by Bounty Hunters before, resulting in a gnarly injury on his hand he now covers with his glove.
John Dory - for a time he was convinced that he was the last Pop Troll
John Dory - sometimes refers to himself in the third person. "John Dory doesn't need a map!"
John Dory - doesn't 'get' modern art, pretends he does so people don't think he's dumb.
John Dory - will try to use fancier sounding words in a sentence, thinking it makes sense. It doesn't.
John Dory - when doing outdoor work, his brothers silently bet how long it takes before JD is unnecessarily shirtless.
John Dory - ends up helping with raising and handling the critters kept in the village. E.g rearing orphaned Cuddle Pups, shearing the Puffalos, breaking in the Adorabulls, taming wild flyer bugs.
John Dory - when living on his own, he would only come back to civilization just before the start of winter when it would be harder to forage and hunt food. He would spend a week or so stocking up on supplies, interact with the locals, then disappear again.
John Dory - takes night classes to finally get his highschool diploma. Is too embarrassed to tell anyone until he graduates.
John Dory - doesn't get sick often. But when he does, he keeps going to the point of exhaustion.
John Dory - has indeed crossed paths with Delta Dawn before. Both of them have very different versions of the story. "I serenaded her." "The fool was whining something from the inside of a jail cell."
John Dory - has been known to sleep with his eyes open. Freaks people out.
John Dory - will drink milk straight from the carton and put it back in the fridge.
John Dory - teaches Bruce's kids all the swear words and does in fact tell them his rendition of where eggs come from.
John Dory - claims to be holding back grey hairs with sheer will power
John Dory - believes in love at first sight, just not for himself.
John Dory - will wrestle and roughhouse to bond with people.
John Dory - if there was a couple sitting on a couch, JD will sit between them and not even realize what he did!
John Dory - he doesn't let it show but his ears are constantly twitching to check for danger, a side effect of living in the wilderness alone for so long.
Clay - writes long and very detailed critical reviews of restaurants
Clay - has reading glasses. Probably the ones that attach magnetically at the nose ridge.
Clay - labels everything (labelmaker is to Clay as Gary is to Branch)
Clay - very into color coded itineraries and always know everyone's business "Poppy is currently at Smidge's pod doing her hair" "How could you possibly know that?" "I have my sources."
Clay - also a notary and registered marriage celebrant
Clay - hair was always naturally green but JDs hair was already green. JD said he had to be yellow for the band, they needed that color coordinated group vibe.
Clay - has drafts for his own book series
Clay - actually plays golf
Clay - gets clumsy when trying to impress someone he admires (imagine him meeting King Peppy and he just knocks things over)
Clay - competitive af - brothers know better than to verse him at anything - has an over the top victory dance
Clay - receives special recognition alongside Viva for protecting the Putt Putt Trolls. (Knighthood? Trollstopia's official CFO?)
Clay - has a stupidly complicated coffee order
Clay - plans to move the Hole N Fun between Pop Village and Bergen Town. Imagine the business!
Clay - refers to Viva as his 'Work Wife'
Clay - knows how to use a stenograph
Clay - absolutely did not roll around the putt-putt course like the others.
Clay - everything must be neat and organized, after living with four brothers he values cleanliness so I imagine he would haaaaate glitter.
Clay - studied hard at math to set himself apart from his brothers.
Clay - occasionally tutors math to Trollings.
Clay - has a decent sized nest egg
Clay - graduated highschool early
Clay - has business cards stored in his hair
Clay - knows how to tie different knots for neckties.
Clay - can spin a pen around his fingers
Clay - is thinking of getting his own critter transportation
Clay - has no fuss, no fun breakfast. Plain toast or fibre cereal.
Clay - itching to hook Pop Village up with electricity.
Clay - was definitely the problem child. Being the middle child in a house full of teenage boys, coupled with the constant threat of Bergens with a sprinkling of John Dory as an older brother results in an angry little Troll boy.
Clay - his hardcore fans were known as Claydies.
Clay - the Putt-Putt Trolls didn't have a sad book club as they had no books! After the reunion Clay was very excited about the vast new collection of books he could get his hands on!
Clay - finds out that he was Poppy's favourite Brozone member when she was little and doesn't he just boast about it any chance he gets!
Clay - for Clay to finally forgive John Dory, JD agreed to perform for the brothers+Poppy and Viva in ONLY the funderdrawers. "Do you feel like you're having 76% more fun yet John? Cause I am!" *Camera snap*
Clay - bruises like a damn peach.
Clay - Viva made him co-leader after she gave up on the notion of being immediately rescued and realized Clay was already constructing and implementing long term settlement plans.
Clay - like the other Putt-Putt Trolls, he has basically become Nocturnal. Even with this, he pulls 'allnighters' to finish any work he has, so his sleep pattern is very inconsistent.
Clay - has a lot of energy. When he isn't dancing, he fidgets, taps his foot, bounces his knee, drums pens.
Clay - has many, many of the same sweater romper. All of them are different shades of green.
Clay - eventually hires an assistant. The assistant is mentally prepared for Clay to be a dictator of a boss. They are shocked when Clay keeps saying things like "Have you had a break yet?" "I think you need a day for your mental health." "Yes, that's how much I'm paying you. How are you going to save for your own pod if I pay you any less?"
Clay - had to quit being the Fun Boy cold turkey so that the Putt Putt Trolls would trust in his leadership.
Clay - I imagine a running gag that random Trolls keep calling him Viva's boyfriend/husband, and he keeps trying to correct them, but he is always cut off or they immediately forget. At some point a random Troll is like "What, is Viva not good enough for you?" And he is so exhausted from fighting it, he just gives up and rolls with it.
Clay - will stay up to sunrise reading 'just one more chapter'
Clay - his brothers collectively tried to convince him that he was the adopted brother.
Clay - is quite squeamish. The sight of vomit, open wounds and bodily fluids; Clay will absolutely pass out. Snotty babies make him very uncomfortable.
Clay - gets Viva to braid his hair out of his face only when something really serious is happening *cracks neck* "Viva?" "Yah?" "Braid me" "Yes, Sir." Shwoooop
Clay - Found out the Classical Trolls have a library larger the Pop Village. "Viva, they have a whole wing dedicated to tragedies! Tragedies, Viva!"
Clay - okay, so he and Viva have never been a couple, even if he ever considered it, their work came first and he didn't want to jeopardize what they had. Buuuuuuuttt the thought that another Troll could one day be Viva's person, that she would go to them instead of him for comfort or ideas or laughs or safety or hugs... it makes Clay feel... weird.
Clay - at some point is named some kinda Troll magazines most eligible bachelor. Bro was in a boyband, co-runs a society of survivors, runs a business, is close friends with royalty, has been knighted, has a license to practice accounting and was part of the only known Perfect Family Harmony. He's apparently a hot commodity now.
Clay - tells John Dory that some appliances are voice activated when they aren't. Will watch JD yell at the coffee maker. 😈
Clay - gets random nosebleeds.
Clay - is writing an autobiography. It will not be kind.
Clay - can read Latin.
Clay - overachiever. Was good at academics and sports in highschool.
Clay - a gambler, can count cards, good poker face and good at reading people's 'tells'.
Branch - for Pop Trolls - being in a famous singing group is the equivalent of being a recognized expert in your field. So, the fact that Branch is in TWO famous boy bands is like he has several PhDs.
Branch - Kismet formed inside a group home for Trollings
Branch - toying with the idea of building plans for a Pop Village Castle. (Secretly a fortress)
Branch - he is very, VERY aware that by marrying Poppy one day he would become King. In secret he plans. And plans. And plans. Mr. Survivalist Troll handles this new fear the way he usually does; with over-preparedness!
Branch - Kismet were the ones that originally got him hooked on ring pops.
Branch - learns phrases in other languages to build relationships with subgenre tribes of Trolls. E.g the K-Pop and Reggaeton Trolls.
Branch - started building the bunker while he was still living in the group home with other Trollings.
Branch - will hold onto Poppy in his sleep like she'll disappear if he lets go.
Branch - all those times that Branch thought the Bergens were coming? It was actually Creek harshly pranking Branch to make him look like a fool.
Viva - that concept art of tiny Viva is the age she was when they escaped the Troll Tree. So like 15 maybe?
Viva - wants to make up for all the missed holidays/birthdays/parties with Poppy so she is constantly popping out from places with gifts yelling SURPRISE!
Viva - does not knock on doors and absolutely will walk straight in when someone is changing clothes
Viva - snorts when she laughs too hard
Viva - biggest Broppy shipper. Already has their wedding planned in her head.
Viva - adrenaline junkie
Viva - no sense of personal space
Viva - rubs it into Clay's face that the ONE time he leaves is when Bergens show up. Uses it as leverage for the most petty of things. "Oh you want the last cupcake? Remember that time you left and Bergens came?" She's not even mad about it she just wanted the cupcake.
Viva - has made a list of all the things she's wanted to experience with Poppy. Makeup, planning parties, dealing with heartbreaks etc. they may not be the first times they've both done these things, but their excited to try them together. 😊
Viva - she reeeaaalllyyy wants to braid all of Bruce's hair. And Brandy's. And their kids. And oh look how much hair Vacationers have!
Viva - is worried that Clay doesn't need her around anymore.
Viva - wants to have children. Lots of them!
Viva - tries to hide sadder feelings from Poppy. Worried that Poppy won't want to hang out with her if she isn't fun.
Viva - calls the older brothers Mr.Bruce and Mr.JD (Clay told her to)
Viva - blows raspberries on peoples cheeks/arms/stomachs to show affection.
Viva - likes to collect 'things'. (Canon?) Never know when you might need the thing again. It can be reused for a different purpose. Side effect of trying to survive. Borderline hoarder. Clay does it too, he is just more organized about it.
Poppy - wishes that Branch would initiate physical contact more often.
Poppy - When something is wrong and the brothers don't want her to know, she can immediately tell because they call her 'Queen Poppy'.
Poppy - besides giving Clay and Viva their titles, she considers the other brothers unofficially part of her 'court' as well. (She might knight them later on, who knows?)
Poppy - sometimes feels guilty, if things had been different, Viva would have been Queen. Viva tries to reassure Poppy that she is "The right Troll for the role." 👍🏻 Also Viva tries to argue that they both technically get be Queens now anyway.
Poppy - would have many pillows and plushies on her bed.
Brandy - has swaddled Bruce before. By accident or on purpose, she will never tell.
Brandy - after watching Bruce, she now puts little things in her hair. Nothing huge, maybe a pen and a food order pad, a snack and bandaids for the kids. Depends on the day.
Rhonda - you know in Frozen, how Sven really wants to eat Olafs nose the whole movie? Imagine that but Rhonda wants to eat Mr.Dinkles
Rhonda - locks JD outside when she's annoyed with him. "Who needs you, I wanted to sleep on this rock anyway!"
Rhonda - when she was a baby she was more like a big suitcase than a vehicle.
Rhonda - really likes rolling around in mud, especially after she's just been cleaned. JD > 😑
Trolls - in general Trolls are pretty rare outside their usual kingdoms and it's considered good luck to meet one.
Trolls - letting another troll touch your hair is a very huge sign of trust.
Trolls - have their own version of godparents. Museparents.
Trolls - Can you imagine how many shades of foundation a Troll makeup store has to stock?! I mean, they probably don't need foundation but could you imagine?!
Trolls - having an egg on the way is known as an 'Eggnancy" 😂
Trolls - varies amongst the tribes but hair length and thickness is a good indication of their physical strength and health. So long, thick hair means they're healthy and can lift heavy weights. E.g. Smidge, Bruce, Boom. Whereas short, wild or thin hair means they could be older, unhealthy or just not physically strong. E.g. Peppy and Thrash.
Trolls - eventually a hybrid Troll (e.g. Techno/Funk) is born in Trollstopia and the parents name the baby after Poppy.
Trolls - JD and King Peppy do the same pose in some stock images. I like to think it's like a Pop Village salute. (It probably has an actual meaning)
Trolls - Hard Candy = Hard Drugs 🍭
Trolls - King Peppy invented all these bizarre holidays when they were trapped in the Troll tree to keep hope alive and to boost morale.
Trolls – teenage Pop Trolls wear eachothers hug time bracelets when they're dating. Like wearing their boyfriend's school pin or their jacket.
Trolls- Trollings can't make their hair into a gradient style until they are older. (survival/camouflage situations they can do, but only temporarily)
Putt-Putt Trolls - all delayed having Trollings worrying for their future safety. The very few eggs that hatched are hidden and protected by the whole tribe. (Putt-Putt baby names: Birdie, Par, Ace, Caddie, Fore, Eagle, Divot, Links, Scramble) Clay and Viva were present for every one of them hatching.
Putt Putt Trolls - all of them are wearing the same outfits because they used Bergen sized socks from the golf courses souvenir stand.
Putt Putt Trolls - use the courses tokens as general currency.
Putt-Putt Trolls - that coordinated attack to capture Bridget and Grissle? Clay was the one who planned and trained them.
Yodelers - Hickory and Dickory had a brother named Dock. He was the one that was rumoured to be crushed by an avalanche. He was the one to hunt down John Dory when everyone thought he was the last Pop Troll. While chasing him down a cliff side, he swung an ice pick straight through John Dory's left hand.
Sugar Gals - SPICE GIRLS TROLLS! I absolutely can picture young JD being so frustrated if BroZone was overtaken on the charts by a rival group
Crimp - goes to work for King Gristle and Queen Bridget after TBT.
Guy Diamond - Trolls have eggs when they have powerful feelings of love. Guy Diamond was able to have Tiny because he loves himself so much.
Tiny Diamond - checks on Branch and Poppy's egg daily asking if his new BFFL is here yet.
Tiny Diamond - the best wingman! E.g. He's hanging out with JD and starts playing up the baby image to lure in the ladies. "I wuv you Uncle John. You're my best friend!" And the ladies are like "Aww!" Tiny whispers "You're welcome"
Cloud Guy - gave Branch 101 reasons why he should officiate his and Poppy's wedding.
Queen Barb - messing with the Rock String made Thrash lose his mind and made Barb more aggressive. Notice they both seemed to be more level headed after the strings were destroyed?
Riff - studying to work in Aged Care. His studies are sponsored so that he can look after King Thrash.
Boom - Floyd's solo music helped Boom when he was coming out. 🏳️🌈
King Peppy - Didn't tell Poppy about Viva because he was in the early stages of dementia. (Canon?) For a while he thought Poppy WAS Viva. By the time he realised his 'mistake', Poppy was already grown.
Vacay Island - the brothers sometimes help Bruce at his restaurant. They have name tags with funny 'work names'. Flood, Big Fish, Classy, and Big Brunch. Viva and Poppy have done the odd shift as well, as Pinky and Diva. 😝
#dreamworks trolls#trolls#trolls band together#trolls movie#trolls brozone#trolls branch#trolls floyd#character design#trolls clay#trolls john dory#trolls bruce#broppy#trolls poppy#trolls viva
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BEYOND THE SPOTLIGHT V
Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!Famous Idol Reader Warnings: Angst/comfort, fame has caused reader a lot of pressure and insecurities. Summary: It doesn't matter he's at HQ trying to keep the multiverse afloat, your face, your voice, your smile and laugh follows him everywhere. No, he is not losing it (yet); it's just that it’s kind of inevitable when most spiders under his command are... how did Gwen called it? Ah-staning you? Well, he can't really complain, it's his girlfriend, after all.
PART I, PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART V
The days after the whole drama with Ashley are nothing but a PR nightmare, everyone gets slandered and just a whole war has started in comment sections all over social media; Miguel tries to distract you by trying to make you go to the HQ with him, but you are hell bent on staying home and, eventually, giving up and reading comments online about the hiatus your company announced just hours after the incident.
Most people are blaming the company, but many others go straight for your throat; and they attack the biggest insecurities you had since you decided to leave the group for a while and go solo.
Some of the girls that used to be your teammates reach out and try to comfort you, cursing Ashley under their breath and trying to make you feel better about the whole ordeal.
But nor Miguel’s or their words work to make you feel ok.
There’s a few comments that catch your eye while having breakfast with Miguel one morning a few weeks after the announcement:
<<Looks like #Y/N couldn't handle the pressure after all. Always thought she was just riding on the coattails of the group. Solo career? More like solo failure.>>
<< It's sad to see #Y/N crash and burn like this. Guess she wasn't as talented as she thought she was. #SoloFlopped #Embarrassing.>>
“Cielo…”
Another one, with about a thousand likes says:
<<Who does #Y/N think she is, anyway? Leaving the group was the biggest mistake of her life. Now she's just another idol desperately trying to stay relevant. #Pathetic #GroupWasBetterWithoutHer>>.
You try to keep scrolling, tears pooling around your eyes. Miguel notices right away, he could see you getting pale and quiet while staring at the holographic display on your wrist.
He puts his hand on top of it, blocking whatever you were reading from you.
“You need to stop” he whispers. “Reading idiotic comments online won’t help”.
You nod, not looking at him, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you; from sadness, to anger, to defeat and some bitterness towards Miguel. But the rational part of you and, above all, the love you have for him has been keeping you from lashing out on Miguel.
He’s been postponing his Spiderman things to hang up with you at home, but every time he had to leave the room to receive a call from his comrades you knew he was needed, which made you feel a bit guilty.
“You’re right” you put your hand on top of his. “It’s just hard not to… it feels like there’s an itch in my brain and the only way I can alleviate is by reading all that”.
Just when he is about to reply, someone starts calling him; Miguel curses, taps something on his watch and mutters ‘sorry’.
“Miggy, you need to get out of those pajamas and go be a hero”
“It’s fine, I- Peter’s got everything under control”.
“That thing has been blowing up for the past few days; he may have it under control but maybe he needs a hand, love”
Miguel hangs his head a bit, defeated.
“This is my fault and I don’t know how to fix it”
“If you want to help me, I just need your support and trust on whatever decision I make” you try not to sound angry at him, but there’s probably an edge to your voice that he notices, because he lets go of your hand and tenses. “That’s what I need from you, Miggy; I know that even with what happened back at the company you were just trying to help, but I think what I need the most right now is you supporting me, even from afar while you help save the day.”
Miguel’s expression softens as he listens to your words, but still with a pang of guilt stabbing at his heart. He knows he hasn't been handling things perfectly; Miguel is aware his sanity is constantly hanging by a tread and that seeing you struggling with the pressure and schedule was just too much.
"I'm sorry” he murmurs, reaching out to cup your face gently. "I've been so focused on trying to fix things that I forgot to just be there for you, I guess I forget I don’t have to intervene on everything..."
You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You have your hands full with several universes, you don’t need to carry my problems too, you know?"
Miguel nods, his eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thank you for understanding, cielo. But please know that I'm here for you, always. Even if I can't fix everything, I'll do my best to support you… without making another scene, I hope."
You lean into his touch, feeling a sense of reassurance wash over you. "I know you will, Miggy. And just knowing that you're here for me means the world, with a dramatic scene at my job and all."
In comfortable silence, the weight of the world seems to lift off your shoulders, if only for a moment. You find solace in Miguel's presence, grateful for his unwavering support. But despite the temporary reprieve, you know that the battle against the hurtful comments and relentless pressure is far from over; when he leaves to save the world, you’ll stay at the apartment with no one to stop you from reading, to keep you from your own negative thoughts.
“You should come with me today.” Miguel suddenly breaks the silence, he walks to your bathroom and opens the faucet. “I know you refused the last hundred times I asked but… I really would help you to meet them, it will take your mind away from all that”.
The idea of accompanying him to the headquarters has crossed your mind before, but the thought of facing the other spiders and being surrounded by the chaos of his world always filled you with anxiety; sneaking into the HQ had felt safer.
You already did not feel good enough for your world, much less for a world full of superhumans.
But now, as you look at Miguel coming out of the bathroom with his face wet from washing it, a hopeful yet hesitant expression, you find yourself considering his suggestion. Maybe, just maybe, it could be a welcomed distraction from the constant onslaught of negative comments and thoughts.
Taking a deep breath, you finally nod, a small smile playing at your lips. "Okay, Miggy. I'll go with you today."
Miguel's eyes light up with genuine joy, a light you are sure no one has seen in years… only you. He is suddenly crossing the room to pull you into a tight embrace. "Thank you, cielo. I promise, it'll be good for both of us. But if they don’t let you breath you just need to tell me and I’ll…"
“Make a scene?”
He groans, embarrassed and you can’t help but laugh at his slightly rose tinted cheeks.
As you cling to him, a sense of relief washes over you. Maybe stepping out of your comfort zone and facing the world outside your apartment is exactly what you need right now.
❃❃❃❃
Every time you step into the HQ you can’t help but gawk at what Miguel has built. And you always get a sense of warmth in your heart, knowing he has people that goes through the same things he goes through…things that you can’t fully understand, no matter how much you want to; so it’s good he can go to his friends when you can’t help him with stuff like this.
This time, you enter the HQ without hiding, you go through the lobby and, just as you thought not everyone here would know who you are, you see in the corner of your eye, a Spiderman saying something to another one, looking directly at you, which has others doing the same.
You want to lower your head, a little embarrassed but as you are about to do it, you look at Miguel.
He always holds his head high, no matter what. And you notice how different he looks in this context, with all this amazing super heroes looking up to him and his leadership; even with the whole Miles fiasco, he was able to amend his bad choices and regain his peoples trust.
Seeing him walk proud around the place he has built with blood, sweat and tears makes you feel a bit better.
If Miguel can walk proudly, so can you. Specially while you are by his side.
As you continue walking, more super heroes start noticing and you can see some of them reacting like just regular fans; it’s cute seeing the lenses on their suits doing a half moon downturn, indicating their smiles.
Feeling a surge of determination, you straighten your posture and walk alongside Miguel with newfound confidence. Despite the curious glances and whispered conversations happening around you, you hold your head high, mirroring Miguel's unwavering pride.
As you make your way through the HQ, you can't help but marvel at the incredible diversity of the so called “Spider-Verse”. Each superhero you pass exudes strength and resilience, their unique abilities a testament to the countless battles they've fought to protect their respective universes. And, obviously, you can’t forget but admire their suits and gadgets you know they must make with all the love and care of the world.
“You got quite a few fans around here, you know?” he murmurs in your ear as he swings with you in his arms around the place; you make the mistake of looking down, it makes you dizzy and you have to press your body tighter to his, Miguel chuckles. “It all began with Hobie and then Miles spread your music here like wildfire.”
“Kids got a good a taste” you say smugly, but with a pink tint in your cheeks. It’s good to know that you got some support.
"And they have excellent taste indeed," Miguel agrees, his voice filled with pride. "But then again, how could they not be fans of yours? Your music has a way of touching people's hearts, no matter what universe they're from."
“Miguel, you adorable sap” You hear Peter yell behind you. Miguel groans and rolls his eyes. “Hello, miss. Nice to see you again.”
“Hi, Mr. Parker” you reply with a smile.
Peter makes a fake wounded sound. “Please, please no “Mister”, makes me feel old”
“That’s because you are” Miguel tells him just when you finally land on the hallway leading to Miguels office, you keep walking alongside him, but much closer when you start seeing all the anomalies in their respective cages. Some of them eye you up and down, as if you were the prey. If they were to break free, you know you would be. “Now we need to get to work, Parker.”
“Everything is under control; you shouldn’t be back from your days off so soon”
“If everything is under control why Jess wont’s stop sending messages and calling? So has Margo.” Miguel counters, his tone serious.
Before Peter can respond, an urgent message comes through on Miguel's communicator. His expression shifts, a mixture of concern and determination crossing his features. "We've got trouble," he says, glancing at you. "A Venom anomaly has been detected. I need to go with the others to check it out."
You nod, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Be careful," you tell him, squeezing his hand reassuringly. Your heart starts beating up fast; Miguel has told you a few things about the type of things he fights, so you are aware of how dangerous a venom anomaly can be.
Miguel nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turns to Peter. "Keep an eye on things her, Parker. We'll be back soon."
With that, Miguel rushes off, leaving you and Peter standing in the hallway, the weight of the impending danger hanging heavy in the air.
“Are you hungry?” Peter asks, trying to sound cheery again, but you can sense his concern. “There’s some really juicy ‘Migueburgers’ in the cafeteria”
“…Migue-what?”
#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#spiderman 2099#spider verse#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#atsv fanfiction
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lighting fun + slight outfit changes with tap girl!!!!!!
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He/him lesbian Josuke who has curves like a supermodel but only wears leather jackets and gets weak in the knees if someone calls him Sir
#Don't mind me I'm tapping into a part of my psyche that has never been rustled before#Never been into gender swap but my neurons...#Joejoeba not art#Koichi is a tiny girl with way too much wallop. Yukako just wants a good girlboss. Okuyasu is struggling like always#Femme Josuke in her suede shoes and leather jackets and leather pants... She loves her femininity along with her masculinity#Same dude saved her that's all the same#Admittedly I dont have experience with gender fucky pronouns. I'd do whatever a pretty girl told me obvi#He/him women is something I would linguistically have a hard time remembering but trust my my heart is in there
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incarnation: the act of being made flesh
#poetry#litany-writes-poetry#religious#religious poetry#technicaly also church notes#written the day after the last one. so still a christmas poem#*taps mic* this one goes out to all the girls and the gays that keep thinking that if they just try rlly rlly hard it will be good enough#it won't be! nothing good you do will be enough to save you#but also nothing bad you do will be enough to condemn you#in the end it's forgiveable#this one might be on the vague side but it makes sense to me and that's my target audience!
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To everybody reblogging and tagging posts about Mox tapping to save Yuta I hope you know that you've driven me to a point of such emotional dysfunction that I'm making my own boba. I'm so upset that I am cooking in 100 degree heat. I hope you're happy with yourselves you monsters.
#MOX WANTED TO SAVE THE ONE PERSON WHO HAS NEVER BETRAYED ANY OF THEM#BECAUSE YUTA REPRESENTS THE FUTURE OF WHAT THEY COULD BE#regal abandoned them#bryan keeps leaving them#claudio hurt eddie#mox's last hope is Yuta#and he had to watch hope be hung from the hands of a cowboy and Matt Jackson girl boss#HOW COULD HE NOT TAP#how could he allow the one person who has stayed true to him hurt#and don't even get me started on how this is against the elite who is inherently a family built on distrust#but who always come back together in the end#Mark can't count on that because Regal never came back#I'M HAVING EMOTIONS#wtf i like wrestling now???
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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse ii); s.g.
synopsis: when gojo satoru first interacted with you
content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo and reader saving a kitten (a moment straight out of a romcom for sure), not beta read (sorry for any errors!)
note: truly didn't think the first part to this anthology series would gain such attention! thank u for that! again, these can be read as a standalone (or connected to this one, but you don't have to read it); enjoy and lmk if u want more!
It was this specific cherry blossom tree Satoru always found you under. The one Kento mentioned the first time he ever asked him about you. If you weren't busy with training or missions, or enjoying life outside the jujutsu world, he found you there. Although there was an array of trees, there was one specific one you seemed to gravitate towards.
He wasn't sure if it was the specific spot that had good lighting for when you wanted to read or sketch in your little book, or maybe it was the way the roots formed a perfect spot to sit in between... whatever it was, he knew it to be your tree. Even when you weren't around. There was something... welcoming about it. Whenever he walked by with Suguru and Shoko nearby, or whenever he was aimlessly wandering around, he always found himself peeking in its direction, hoping you were sitting underneath it.
For a confident young man, it took Gojo some time to make his way to you. Claiming to love you when he hadn't even uttered a word in your direction was bold, even going as far as believing you were his soulmate was quite the exaggeration. So why was it hard for him to simply say hello?
Maybe it was because he wasn't a simple person. Nothing about Gojo Satoru screamed simple. He was anything but that. Yet, a task as easy as that—which came naturally to any other girl around him—was a hassle. Each time he thought he found the courage to step up, he let his racing heart deter him.
That was until you made the first move.
It caught him completely off guard, the way you gently tapped his arm from behind, peeking up at him with that sweet smile of yours. His heart did somersaults, his eyes widened behind his round frames, so big that his shades couldn't even hide them. He had been on one of his little walks, new treat in hand that Shoko bribed him with in order to practice her reverse curse technique on him. He was bored, completing his missions and not having much to train on when he already excelled at everything.
At everything except talking to the girl of his dreams.
"Hi," you kindly greeted, smile reaching your eyes. Oh, god, you were an angel. A being descended from up above. How could you exist so easily in such a cruel world? He needed to protect you, right? Even if he could see your cursed energy oozing out so brightly. You must've been powerful, something he never considered, always looking at you like you were some little bunny to keep in his pocket... not one who could possibly kick the shit out of him (if he'd let you and he definitely would). "Can you help me out?"
"Pretty..." the words slipped his mouth before he could even process them. Quickly sealing his lips and clearing his throat as you tilted your head, Satoru straightened his back. "What is it?"
Dismissing the sudden word vomit, assuming he was in his own world, you pointed to the left of you. "I sit under those trees, but I keep hearing soft meows coming from one of them. I'm too short to reach... do you think—"
"Yes," the white haired young man instantly nodded as you blinked. Without a second word, he turned on his heel and stalked towards the tree that you claimed your own.
You, a bit baffled, were unsure as to how exactly he knew which tree you had been pointing at when it was a general direction. Yet, there he was, approaching the tree you were referring to. "It's quite high up, but you're very tall!" You called out before following after him, lightly jogging to catch up before stopping behind him as he eyed the tree.
In reality, Gojo didn't think any of it through. He just wanted to say yes to be around you, to hear you speak more. Not... to climb up a tree to save a stray kitten. But, whatever made him look better in his eyes, he didn't mind.
"Be careful!" You exclaimed as you watched him make his way up the tree, no hesitations. You were a bit surprised that someone so easily wanted to help you save a cat. Maybe he liked animals, too?
Or maybe he was a fool madly in love with you—you wouldn't know this yet.
"Oh, there! You've got 'em!" You clapped as you watched the uniformed young man gently reach for and latch onto the small, white kitten.
"Ah, don't worry, I'm only here to help you," Gojo said, carefully pulling the kitten towards himself. "I've got you, you're safe now. I just gotta figure out—"
"Watch out!" You shrieked.
"Shit!" Satoru yelped as he lost his balance, clutching the kitten close as he slipped from the branch. Landing with a loud thud, followed by several groans of pain (and pure embarrassment... when did he ever make himself look like a complete fool?!), Gojo rolled around with his eyes closed.
"Are you alright?!" You panicked, rushing over and kneeling at his side, gently lifting his head with one hand as your other pressed carefully against his shoulder, eyeing his body for any wounds.
"Agh... dammit..." he grunted, eyes fluttering open and adjusting to the brightness of the sun. Blinking a few times, blurred vision focusing, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of you. Your hair that was usually held back by its ribbon, cascaded around your face as a few strands slipped out from the ponytail. With eyebrows narrowed and a look of worry on his face, Satoru's embarrassment turned into that of timidness. You were engulfed by the sunlight, glowing like the angel you were. "Gosh, you're so pretty..."
"Are you okay?" You asked in a panic, his mumbled words coming off too slurred to understand. "Did you hit your head too hard?"
Shaking his head as he forced himself to sit up, Gojo rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "No, 'm fine..." he sighed before looking down at his hands to the kitten. "So is this little guy."
Turning your attention from the white haired young man, to the matching kitten, you gasped, "what a hero!"
Grinning and feeling the heat rise to his cheeks, Gojo shrugged, "eh, ''twas nothing..."
"You almost broke a few bones, though..." you frowned, looking back at him.
"I'm tough," he brushed off before turning to face you. Now eye to eye, the sudden confidence instantly sizzled away as he gazed at you from up close. A sudden silence weaved between the two of you as your eyes locked, nothing but the sounds of nature and the kittens purring filled the air. "I..."
"Um..."
"You should keep it," Satoru suddenly said, handing you the kitten. "Deserves a nice home."
"Oh, me?" You asked as you took the kitten in your hands, caressing its soft, white fur.
"Yeah, I wouldn't be a good dad," he chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You... You'd be a great mom to it, I'm sure."
Eyeing the kitten, then looking back up at him, you smiled, "we can coparent."
At your offer, Gojo gulped. "Co... parent?"
"Yeah, like, help me out with..." lifting the kitten up, you squinted your eyes, "her."
"I... I don't know much about taking care of animals but I can try and help as much as I can," he offered, scratching his head nervously.
Smiling, you brought the kitten close to your chest, "you saved her from a tree, I'm sure she will remember that."
"Yeah, maybe," Satoru blushed.
Looking down at the kitten as you pet her, listening to her gentle purring, you happily sighed, "what's your name?"
Quickly pointing at himself, the blue eyed boy asked, "mine?"
"Mhm," you nodded.
"Gojo. Gojo Satoru. You can call me Satoru, though," he nearly blurted out as you chuckled before giving him yours.
"Well, Satoru," you beamed as he melted at the sound of his name slipping off your tongue, "I think I'll name her after you."
"Wha— Satoru? But... she's a girl?" He tilted his head with furrowed eyebrows.
"I was thinking of a nickname," you said before looking down at the kitten. "I'll name her Toru. It's cute, right?"
Nodding slowly, then faster, Gojo agreed. "Yeah, Toru is cute."
Lifting your gaze to meet his, you gave him a toothy smile. "Toru it is."
#harunovella writes;#gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk au#fem reader#gojo fluff#satoru gojo x y/n#reader insert#jjk x y/n
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i know we just met, but i love you
synopsis: love at first sight with the tokyo revengers men.
characters: manjiro 'mikey' sano, takashi mitsuya, chifuyu matsuno
genre: fluff
warnings: none (i think...?)
masterlist.
manjiro 'mikey' sano
"ken-chinnnn" the leader of the toman whined at his taller friend. draken rolled his eyes in response, "no mikey, drop it."
"come onnnn-" the said man pouted exaggeratedly, "what did i do wrong?"
"nothing." the delinquent replied taking his wallet out of the pocket of his jacket, "you just don't need to eat twenty-five taiyaki."
"sorry to bother you but there are a lot of people who are waiting take their orders so if you could-" daiki, as it was written on his name tag, tried to cut them off from behind the counter.
for the past ten minutes, the two delinquents were arguing about their order. draken wanted to buy mikey five taiyaki, while mikey wanted his friend to buy him twenty-five of them.
draken turned his head to the cashier, "yeah, so five taiyaki and-"
"twenty-five taiyaki." "damn you-"
"hurry up! unlike other people, some of us have important things to do!" a customer yelled from the back of the line.
manjiro snapped his head to the back of the line, narrowing his eyes at the older man who had just yelled at him. "see now you're making people angry, mikey. 'm not gonna spend ¥5,272 on snacks."
"i need to eat a lot if i want to be taller!"
"for the last time. you won't get taller! you are at your maximum height!"
"alright! i'm not going through this again." a soft voice cut both of them before they could start the same argument they had 2 minutes ago. "daiki, i'll pay for their order- just make his goddamn snacks, please."
when manjiro turned to look at the person who 'saved his life', he felt like he has just died and miraculously came back to life as he made eye contact with you.
you were... pretty.
his eyes were set on you, taking in every single detail he could as if he was scared to forget how you look the second he'll look away.
"thank you, but that's not necessary!" draken politely thanked you as you grabbed your fidelity card of the small shop.
"don't worry about it! after all, those fidelity points have to be used for something." you waved him off, looking back at daiki, "could you also add my regular oder with that, please daiki?"
"o-of course, (y/n)!" the young worker quickly tapped your oder in the computer, a red hue covering his cheeks when you smiled at him.
"mikey, what do you say?" draken looked at his friend, hinting him to thank you, but his words fell into deaf ears as mikey kept looking at you like you hung the moon and stars in the sky.
"mikey?" He nudged the said man's shoulder trying to snap him out of his thoughts, only to be ignored once more.
the tall blond dropped the smile as he turned to his friend hitting the side of his head, finally snapping him out of his thoughts, "mikey!"
"um? what?" mikey barely glanced at draken when he responded, his heartbeat increasing when you looked back at him with your receipt in hand.
"i said, what do you say to the girl who just bought you your snacks?" he replied, glancing between the two of you clearly wondering why his friend was acting weird all of the sudden.
"marry me."
ken ryuguji never whipped his head to look at his friend so fast in his life. What the hell did he just said?!
you felt your face warm up at his words, chuckling as you walk past him, placing your hand on his shoulder, "do you ask every girl who buys you snacks to marry you?"
manjiro felt like he was in heaven when you stood closer to him. how can someone be so pretty and be so nice and smell so good and be so pretty at the same time.
"what?" toman's leader came back down to earth when you handed him the box filled of taiyaki. "did i say that out loud?" manjiro mumbled, frowning to himself. before looking back at you, just to see you making your way outside. "hey- wait!"
he tossed the snacks at draken jogging to meet you outside of the shop. "w-wait!"
you turned to look at him, the soft summer breeze sweating through your hair, leaving your face completely out in the open, "yes?"
"you're (y/n), right?" he asked remembering how the cashier called you when you were ordering, "i'm mikey..." he wanted to say something else but the words got caught in his throat when you smiled at him.
"nice to meet you, mikey" you replied before your eyes drifted behind him to the small group of guys that were looking at the two of you intensely, the 'ken-chin' guy from earlier standing with them. "i think your friends are waiting for you"
manjiro glanced back to see his best friends looking at them with knowing looks on their faces, "never mind them- this is- you are more important."
you looked away from him, his intense eye contact making your face feel warm, "you really know how to talk to girls you know?"
"thank you for earlier... the snacks and all..."
"that was 2 months worth of fidelity points- you better eat every single one of those taiyaki" you playfully warned the gang leader.
"don't worry about that..!" mikey replied knowing damn well that he will inhale those snacks. "can i walk you home? it's going to get dark soon- wouldn't want my wife to get attacked or something!"
wife?!
you suppress a smile at his words, "of course, wouldn't want it to get dark at 2 pm, and then get attacked by who knows what next to a bakery."
"exactly! let's go, wifey!"
takashi mitsuya
"what did you say you're brother's name was?" you asked the crying girl in front of you.
"...t- taka-shi" the small girl sobbed in your shoulder as you gently patted her head.
"alright and what's your name?" you gently asked as you scanned the area trying to find someone who looked like they had just lost their child.
"i- i- i'm mana"
"you have a really pretty name, you know?" you smiled fondly at the girl as you whipped the tears of her face with your thumbs.
"really?"
"heck yeah! it's a badass name!" you felt relief wash over you when you saw a smile spread across the kid's face, "i'm (y/n) and i'm gonna help you find your brother alright?"
"thank you..." she mumbled quietly.
"you're going to hop on my shoulders and tell me when you see your brother okay?" the girl looked up at you with stars in her eyes, you pulled mana on your shoulder, her small hands on your head.
you walked for a good 15 minutes before mana tapped your head with on hand while the other pointed toward an unknown man in the crowd of person, "they're there! that's draken!"
draken? wasn't her brother's name takashi? you wondered as you put mana to the ground your hand grabbing hers just in case she got lost again.
"mana!" a little girl's voice called out as you arrived next to the very tall guy with a dragon tattoo on his head. the small girl that looked very similar to mana hugged tightly the younger girl.
"mitsuya! ' found her" the tall guy called out for someone else behind him. the 'mitsuya' guy appeared from behind the 'draken' guy not long after he called out from him. the purple haired teen practically attacked his sister with a hug, sighing in relief.
"don't ever do that again, mana." he gently scaled his younger sister, "you could've gotten lost and we would've been really sad, al-?"
"it's fine! (y/n) helped me find you!" she pointed her finger at her. mitsuya ruffled his sister's hair, before straightening up to thank the person that help his mini-him, "thank you so mu..."
he felt like the world had stopped moving. like it was only the two of them in the middle of the festival. takashi mitsuya was in a trance. he was simply mesmerized by the sight of you.
"it's no problem, really! " you softly smiled at him, "your sister is a real angel-"
anything else you said after wasn't even registered but the delinquent in front of you. he was usually so good at this- talking to people was what he did best so... why couldn't he utter a single word for you.
his cheeks were red, his palm were sweaty, why was he anxious?- he was hanging on everything you did. even if he felt like he had forgotten how to speak, your voice felt like melody to his ears.
he snapped out of his trance when someone nudge his shoulder. mitsuya glanced at draken beside him, suddenly remembering that they weren't alone and that you were talking to him.
you looked at him with a puzzled look, "are you alright?
your question made him overthink about everything that happened in the last 2 minutes of your meeting. Did he look like a creep?
"i- i- great."
the hell was that takashi? he cursed himself.
darken cleared his throat, holding back his laugh. he brought his fist to his mouth faking coughs as he muttered a small, "real smooth, mitsuya".
you chuckled at his friend's comment, making mitsuya straighten up, you pulled out your hand for him to shake.
"let's start over, alright? i'm (y/n)... you're takashi right?"
draken stepped up clearly expecting his friend to be to lost in space to answer you, "he prefers mitsuya-"
"takashi's fine!" the said man interjected, as he quickly grabbed your hand to shake it, sending one of his pretty smile in your direction.
"i-"
"are you going to marry my brother?" he couldn't catch a break could he? luna asked you with big eyes.
you chuckled softly at her words, "how about this... i will give my number to your brother. then we'll go out to eat something to talk about marriage alright?"
"yes!" the girl tightly hugged your leg as you said that.
"does that sound like a plan to you, takashi?" yes!
mitsuya hurriedly started to look in his pocket for a pen, when draken pulled one out of his pocket with a piece of paper and handed it to the purple haired boy, "there you go, casanova"
takashi handed you the paper and the pen, before you wrote your name with your phone number on it.
"see y'a soon, taka! bye, mana don't get lost again alright?"
as soon as you were out of sight takashi turned to draken with a stern look, "not a word about this, alright?"
"you're crazy!" draken crackled putting his hand in his pocket, "i'm going to tell everyone!"
"draken!"
"as your wingman i feel like it's my responsibility-"
"no it is not!"
chifuyu matsuno
"hurry up, chifuyu!" takemichi yelled at his friend. they couldn't be late. not for that.
"how come you are slow as hell during a fight, yet you sprint your life on a sunday at 8 am?" the blond joked as he calmly walked behind takemichi with not a care in the world.
"come on! we're gonna be late!" he repeated hurriedly before stopping abruptly while looking around him.
"late to what?" chifuyu yawned, before looking at his friend, who stood there looking around, up and down as if his brain had finally snapped, "you alright?"
"alright stand here and don't move." takemichi moved the delinquent around so that he would stand in the middle of a park- an empty park.
"did you finally snapped or...?" he asked when the time traveler started to back away from him, "are you going to kill me? is this really how it's gonna end-"
"watch out!"
a voice yelled, but it was too late.
a ball directly hit his face, knocking chifuyu to the dirty ground, his eyes closing due to the shock.
it took him a couple of seconds before finally opening his eyes again, only to realize that he was in heaven. the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life held his head in her hands, her index and middle finger pressed against the front of his neck just below his jaw- making sure that his heart was still beating.
"oh- thank god! you're not dead!"
"are you an angel?" chifuyu mumbled placing his hand on top of yours- making sure you were real, "am i in heaven?"
you let a breathy chuckle at his words, "you're cute- but no you're not dead... i kicked a ball in your face- unintentionally of course!"
his eyes finally focused on you, remembering what had happened. he blinked a couple of time, his eyes scanning your face- a pretty girl's face... so close to his face with her hands on his face and his hands on her hand-
what?!
chifuyu's face became as red a tomato straitening his posture to apologize for touching you without your authorization, "i'm so sorry-"
his head came in contact with your head, making you pull back immediately from the blond. "ow! i told you i didn't do it on purpose!" you groan holding your head with your hands.
chifuyu gasped in horror at his own clumsiness as he placed a hand on the back of your head. hopping that the coldness of it would help you a little, "i'm sorry! i swear i didn't mean it! please hit me again so that we're even!"
...what? now why would he say that?
"what? what's wrong with you?! do you get turn on by getting hit or something?!"
chifuyu panically looked around to search takemichi so that he could help him. when he finally spotted him, hiding behind the swings, the time traveler was smiling proudly with his two thumbs up in the air.
his action making him recall a conversation the two of them had a couple of weeks earlier.
"so... am i married in the future?" chifuyu asked takemichi as he bit down the sandwich he made himself for lunch.
takemichi raised his brows at the question, "yeah-"
"really?!" the blond gasped, with heart in his eyes, "do i know her?! no wait- that'll ruin the surprise- is she pretty?! no wait- of course she's pretty you idiot!"
the time traveler chuckled at his friend's words, rubbing the back of his neck, "do you want me to tell you how you met?"
"no! it has to be a surprise!" chifuyu refused, "wait am i going to meet her soon? is that why you said that?! takemichi?! answer!"
"nah- like you said it has to be a surprise~"
"takemichi!"
"if it makes you feel better- you embarrassed yourself in front of her"
"how would that make me feel better?!"
that sneaky bastard.
"i'm sorry! i don't know how to talk to pretty girls..." chifuyu mumbled looking to the ground, but his face snapped back at you when he realize what he had just say, your eyes round at his words, "i- i mean not that don't know how to talk you! wait- not that you're not pretty! you are pretty- beautiful even! but that is not the point! i don't need you to hit me! just please don't think i hurt you on purpose- i don't hit pretty girls! no wait- i don't hit girls at all! but you being beautifully-pretty is just a plus you know! an-"
you smacked your hand on his mouth, stopping his rambling, the butterflies in your stomach flying way to much due to his words. "please stop-! you're too cute..."
takemichi titled his head at the scene in front of him, clearly not remembering that part of the story your older self told him in the future about how chifuyu and her had met-
but... mission failed successfully... i guess?
ⓒarmxnh
#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers#chifuyu x reader#chifuyu matsuno#takashi x reader#takashi mitsuya#manjiro x reader#mikey x reader#manjiro sano
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On Top
Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Plinth!Reader
Warnings - Smut, Penis in vagina sex, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Abortion is mentioned once, Angst with a happy ending. Not beta read :0
Authors Note - I think this is the first time I’ve written p in v sex so please bear with me.
Standing in front of the door to the Snow residence, you made sure you had everything. The basket you brought over for Coriolanus and his family was filled with food, gifts, and roses for Grandma’am. You wanted to celebrate Coriolanus’s historic win in this year's Hunger Games. Well, Lucy Grey won, but she wouldn’t have done without your Coriolanus.
Your knuckles tapped the door three times and you patently waited until the door opened to reveal Grandma’am’s signature snow-white hair. She smiled at you and embraced you. She stepped aside and let you enter the home you had become so familiar with over the years.
“Grandma’am, I wanted to bring this little gift for Coriolanus’s big win. The flowers are for you, by the way,” you winked and placed the basket on the table. “Speaking of, where might he be.”
Grandma’am's eyes softened at your comment. “He’s with the dean,” she said, “He will be here any moment. You can wait for him in his room if you’d like.” Grandma’am rushed over to examine a particularly pretty white rose.
You sat on Coriolanus’s bed tracing hearts on his pillow for what seemed like hours before his door opened. He looked frantic as if someone found out something they weren’t supposed to find.
“Come on, Coryo, you’re supposed to be smiling. Lucy Grey won. Aren’t you happy?”
“I cheated,” he sighed.
Your heart stopped. He what? Never in a million years did you think that he would do such a thing. With strong women like Tigris and Grandma’am raising him, you would have thought that he had the decency to break up with a woman before he did that.
Coriolanus shook his head as soon as he realized that you might have been taking his comment in the wrong way. “I cheated in the games. Not on you. I would never do that.”
Your body relaxed and then it shot back up again. “Wait, what do you mean you cheated in the games? Is that even possible?”
Coriolanus explained what he did in order to get Lucy Grey to win. The compact mirror that used to belong to his mother had been packed with rat poison, poisonous to anyone who came in contact with it. He also put his father's handkerchief which was covered in Lucy Grey's scent in the snake's cage. If the snakes were familiar with her scent then they wouldn’t kill her. So it wasn’t her singing that saved her, it was Coriolanus.
“What are they going to do to you?” Your eyebrows scrunched together with worry. You couldn’t lose Coriolanus for his stupid, yet chivalrous actions.
“I don’t know yet. I don’t want to think about the future. Right now, I want to live in the moment with the prettiest girl in all of Panem.” Coriolanus smiled at how your face heated up so quickly, but deep down he was hurting. He knew what his punishment was. Twenty years of service as a peacekeeper in the Districts. He would leave the Capital and everything he’s known since he was a baby. That he could deal with, but losing you would be the hardest thing he would have to deal with.
He knew that you would run to your father and beg him to get Coriolanus out of serving, but he didn’t want you over-exhausting your father's resources. He was a big boy and he needed to learn how to deal with his consequences. He would be fine. After all, Snow lands on top.
He wanted to live in this moment with you. He wanted to memorize every inch of your body. He wanted to hold onto that memory and make it last.
Your smile calmed him. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, eyes focused on your lips.
You nodded your head and smiled into the kiss. It was soft and sensual, vastly different from the kisses that the two of you usually share. Your lips brushed together as your bodies got closer to each other. By the time the two of you broke apart, you were under him, his forearms caging you underneath him. There was no need for him to do that. This is where you wanted to be, with Coriolanus. The toxic and tyrannical world that you lived in was long forgotten as she swooped in for another kiss.
His lips traveled down to your cheek, then your jaw, and settled on your neck. He spent the majority of his time kissing and nibbling at the skin on your neck. There would be pretty little marks on your skin later, reminding people that you belonged to him. Coriolanus doesn’t remember when he got this territorial, but he sure loved the fact that Strabo Plinth’s beautiful daughter was his girlfriend. His girlfriend to mark and fuck and love whenever he wanted (with your consent of course.)
You laughed as Coriolanus licked the sensitive patches of skin that he nibbled raw. “My parents are going to kill me when they see what you’ve done.”
Coriolanus kissed your lips one more time in response to your comment. He then resumed his exploration of your body. His hands traveled down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to reveal the bra that he unclasped in less than five seconds. He threw it on the floor of his bedroom, letting it get hooked onto the pile of books in the corner.
Coriolanus kissed in between the valley of your breasts. He flicked his tongue over your sensitive nipples. It was cold in the Capital of Panem and unfortunately, the Snow’s didn’t have indoor heating. Maybe it was because they didn’t want to melt.
You sighed in pleasure as Coriolanus continued to explore your breasts. After five minutes of teasing, he began to travel south to the part where you needed him the most. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of your pants, “may I?”
You nodded, “Ever the gentleman.”
With your permission, he ripped your pants off of you and threw them on the floor. They were lost in the pile of clothing that had gathered on the floor. Coriolanus had shed some of his clothing as well. His ripped body was adorned in nothing but his white underwear.
Coriolanus spread your legs apart, “Look at how wet my girl is.” He traced a finger down the cotton of your underwear and slowly slid it up your legs. He wanted to drag this on as much as possible. You let out a grumble of frustration, getting tired of his constant teasing. Coriolanus gave in and got rid of your underwear.
The same finger that was used to skim the fabric of your underwear was now being used to gather your slick and spread it across your sensitive pussy. You took a deep breath of air into your lungs. The feeling was new, but not unwelcomed. Coriolanus flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. Your clit was pulsing with need. You needed Coriolanus to drop the act and eat you out like he was a starving man.
“Coriol-” Your word was cut off by a moan as his mouth did exactly what you wanted it to do. Coriolanus delved into your pussy, tracing shapes onto your clit with his tongue. Your back arched off of the bed again. Coriolanus’s fingers teased your hole, trying to find the perfect time to ease into your channel.
Coriolanus’s fingers weren’t thick, but they were long making it easier for him to tease your G-spot. He fucked his fingers in and out of you as he sucked your clit. You had to bite your lip in order to keep quiet. Your lips were sure to be chewed raw after this, but they would serve as a reminder that you had a man who was willing to do this for you. Many high-society women told stories about their husbands not pleasuring them when they had sex. It sounded like a horrible life to lead, but they were rich and beautiful so they needed to sacrifice something.
Coriolanus curled his fingers up, letting them knock against your G-spot. He continued to kiss and lick at your clit. You were close. By the way you were clenching down on his fingers, he could tell that the waterworks were coming. Your naked chest rose and fell as you played with your nipples, increasing the pleasure that you felt. Your head fell even deeper into the pillow as a chill ran down your body. That chill eventually led to where Coriolanus was currently still working. He ate your pussy like a starved man, just the way you liked it.
Without warning, your juices painted Coriolanus’s face. He wasn’t surprised that you came so fast. The last time you had sex was two months ago. You were burning for him and he was burning for you.
Coriolanus wiped his face with the back of his hand and laughed. That was the first time he had actually made you squirt. It had always been a personal goal of his after Tirgis explained to Coriolanus how a woman's body works. At first, he was traumatized. He didn’t want to have the sex talk with his dear cousin, but when he laid eyes on you for the time, he wanted to do everything Tigris said and more.
His cock was hard. You could see the outline of it through his white underwear. You would tease him about his tighty whities later. Right now, you were laser-focused on the fact that Coriolanus hooked his thumbs under his waistband and lowered them, exposing his cock to the cold air. His hard cock slapped against his lower stomach. He jerked his cock off, spreading his precum all over his length. He wanted to make sure that it went in as smoothly as possible. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you.
He lined himself up at your core. He slid his tip up and down your pussy, gathering your slick with his dick before he pushed into you. Your insides welcomed him with little to no problem. The stretch felt good. You were all slicked up and ready for him.
Contraceptives weren’t a problem for you. Coriolanus was always careful and made sure to come somewhere that wasn’t your vagina. You didn’t want to have a kid just yet. First, you wanted to study at the University and travel back to District Two if you were given the chance. Then you wanted to get married. Pereferabbly to Coriolanus, but you didn’t know if that was possible yet. With his fate still undecided, your plans to marry the love of your life dwindled. Besides, even if you were to get pregnant your father would have enough money to get you an abortion
Coriolanus’s head fell forward as he buried his cock in your tight pussy. Two months and he had forgotten how good you felt. Your insides fluttered around him as he bottomed out.
Coriolanus began to thrust his cock in and out of you. He was methodical with everything he did. Coriolanus set a rhythm as he fucked into you. He fucked you hard and fast. The side of his bed slapped against the wall and his mattress cracked and groaned as he fucked into you. You prayed to the heavens that Grandma’am and Tigris were in a deep sleep. Or that the walls of the Snow residence were thicker than Coriolanus’s cock.
Coriolanus peppered your mouth with kisses in order to muffle your moans. He kept his pace as he did this. Your breasts jiggled as he fucked into you. Your hands found their way down to your extra-sensitive clit. You circled it with your fingers and moaned in pleasure at the feeling.
His balls slapped against your ass as his strokes became more deep and labored. He was going to come soon. He needed to come soon. He couldn’t hold on much longer. Two months with no sex had gotten to him. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as your pussy clenched around him. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his voice was strained from trying to keep his composure.
“Inside me,” you said. You were close too, the feeling of your finger frantically rubbing your clit and the feeling of Coriolanus's cock buried deep inside of you spurred your orgasm to come out from the woodwork.
You have come a second time, your pussy fluttering and squeezing Coriolanus cock that was still inside of you. A string of curses fell from Coriolanus’s lips as he came inside of you. His pulsing and throbbing cock pushed his come deep inside of you as he continued to fuck you as he came. His thrusts were slow but intentional. He would have lasted a few more seconds, but with the way that your pussy squeezed his sensitive cock, he came instantly.
Coriolanus slowly eased his cock out of you. The both of you were breathing heavily as Coriolanus went to grab a towel from his closet. He eased your legs open one more time as he cleaned you up. He was slow and gentle with it. He knew that you were still sensitive after two orgasms.
His come eased out of you and onto the towel. The sight almost caused him to get hard, but he didn’t feel like tiring you out even more.
Once he was done cleaning you up, he tucked you into his chest and covered the two of you with the blankets on his bed. He kissed your forehead and your cheek. Coriolanus’s love language was kissing. He loved kissing you. He loved doing anything with you, but kissing was his favorite.
Your eyes closed, but you weren’t falling asleep. Not yet. Sex might have been a clever distraction, but now that you were coming off your high you needed to know what will happen to the future of your relationship.
“Coryo, what is going to happen to you? I know that you know what your punishment is. I'm not stupid.”
Coriolanus sighed as he tried to keep his voice from waving. He rarely cried, but in moments like these, he did. Just you and him shielded away from the rest of the Capital were his favorite. “Twenty years as a peacekeeper.”
You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to cry. Your body ran cold as you repeated those words in your mind. Twenty years as a peacekeeper. Twenty years without your Coriolanus. Your Coryo.
“My dad can-”
“No,” Coriolanus said. “I don’t want your dad to get me out of this one. I need to learn how to do things on my own.”
“What if I had a crazy elaborate plan to get you out of it?”
“Nothing could be crazier than this.” Coriolanus got this crazy idea. It has been sitting in the back of his mind ever since you agreed to be his girlfriend. “Marry me?”
This isn’t how he wanted to propose to you. He had already gotten your father's approval months ago. You were perfect for him and you deserve a perfect proposal. He wanted to take you to a fancy restaurant, get down on one knee, and ask you that way. Traditional and expected of Capital people, but things never go as planned when you’re a Snow.
“Seriously?” You were in disbelief. Of course, you wanted to marry him, but this all seemed a bit rushed. “I mean, yes, I’ll marry you, but Coryo. You’re about to leave.” Then, your brilliant mind comes up with the perfect plan.
You’ll marry Coriolanus, making him one of the heirs to the Plinth fortune. Thus making him more valuable to the Capital. This way you get to marry the love of your life and keep him within arms reach. Were you being possessive? Maybe, but it was better than the dean having to deal with an angry Plinth.
And your plan worked. You and Coriolanus got married a week after he proposed to you. It was a bit rushed, but the two of you were ready. He was going to be a loving husband, and you, a loving wife. Coriolanus’s punishment would be reduced to two months of training in District Two. He would then return to the Capital as a peacekeeper. He would keep the peace during the day and return to you at night.
Turns out Snow does land on top.
---------------------
Time to study up on straight people sex!
#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow fanfiction#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#the hunger games
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if u think i’m pretty || chris sturniolo
SMUT. 18+. Minors DNI. tw: hate fucking. lots of it. bickering while fucking? idk you get the gist. finally got around to writing about chris. can you believe i scrapped like 5 fics? 🥴 yeah me either! also, sequel with matt if yall want it ;)
part two w/matt is here :)
“Christopher fucking Sturniolo!”
Your words were laced with venom, the staircase rumbling beneath you as you stomped upstairs. Faintly you could hear Matt call out for you, your mind too filled with rage to hear him properly.
Pornographic moans flooded your eardrums as you reached Chris’s room, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. Your closed fist rattled his door, the dramatic moans coming to a screeching halt.
“Open the fucking door dickwad!” You screamed. Impatiently you tapped your foot, deciding he was taking too long. You grabbed the door handle, (surprised to find it unlocked), and swung the door open.
It was almost comical watching Chris and a girl you didn’t know scramble to get themselves dressed.
“What the fuck are you doing in here? Get the fuck out! Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” Chris spat, shoving his gray sweatpants on. For a brief moment you felt bad for the girl, her waterline filling with tears. She was just one of many you had seen this week. You grabbed a shirt you presumed to be hers, handing it to her. You took a deep breath, containing your anger as you looked at her.
“Please get dressed and for the love of God, find someone better to fuck,” You sighed. The blonde was gone in a flash, practically sprinting out of Chris’s room. You crossed your arms, shooting lasers out of your eyes as you glared at the brunette across from you. Oh, only if looks could kill.
“I’m not believing my phone magically teleported into the dishwasher of all places,” You snarled. Your phone had been missing for six hours straight, your iphones location still saying it was at the triplets house. You had dragged Matt and Nick all around their house, searching from the ceiling to the floor. When you had finally accepted defeat, you had opened the dishwasher to grab a bowl to make a snack.
And to your displeasure, your phone was sopping wet, sitting in plain sight on the rack.
“You have zero proof I did that, literally zero,” Chris argued. Your eyes briefly flickered to his exposed chest, the amount of skin throwing you off. You shook your head, showing Chris your ruined phone. “Really? Because I can’t recall the last time you did dishes but you magically did them last night,” You snapped. Chris shrugged nonchalantly, a cocky smirk creeping across his lips.
“What can I say? I figured i’d help out the household,”
That’s it.
You chucked your phone at him, the brunette dodging the attack by seconds. It was ruined away, even the rice method was unable to save your phone. It smacked against the wall, the sound making Chris jump. “Maybe your phone wouldn’t be ruined if you weren’t having very LOUD phone sex with your boyfriend!” Chris yelled. You threw your hands up in the air, completely dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? Why would I ever-” You began arguing, before it clicked.
You weren’t having phone sex with anyone, that was for sure. But you stayed over at the Sturniolo household frequently, to the point where you were there more often than you were home. As much as Chris drove you insane, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. The concept of the attraction being forbidden, soured by years and years of bickering, did something inside of you.
You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, even though you didn’t want it to. Chris snickered at your loss of words, shooting you a genuine smile. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He teased. In a swift motion you dashed across the room, your palm connecting with his cheek. Your tension with Chris had never gone beyond yelling. He had never crawled under your skin so much before, embarrassment seeping over you as you thought about the whole house hearing what he said.
A long pause silenced the room, the sound of the slap echoing through out your ears. Chris took a moment to process what you had just done, before his sharp gaze meant yours. His hand flew to your throat, gripping the sides as he threw you against the nearest wall. The air was knocked out of your lungs, your body in fight or flight mode. He easily towered over you, his sharp blue eyes filled with rage.
“You’re such a fucking whore,” Chris grumbled. He squeezed the sides of your neck harder, a whimper escaping your lips. His grip loosened, his attention fully dedicated to the sound you had made. The brunette tilted his head to the side curiously, as if he hadn’t believed what he just heard. “Did you just whimper?” He questioned. You shook your head no, Chris’s knee spreading your legs apart. Testing the waters, he brought his face closer to yours.
“You know, your little stunt prevented me from finishing earlier. Perhaps you’d like to help me out,” Chris purred, the glint of lust in your eyes telling him everything he needed to know. You rolled your eyes, your heart beginning to race as his body pressed against yours. “If you’re going to kiss me get on with it before I change my mind,” You said plainly. Chris’s grip on your throat tightened, your airway becoming restricted.
“You’ve always been a mouthy one,” He muttered, roughly bringing his lips to yours.
Chris hated how good you tasted, how good you smelled. He hated how your skin always looked so soft, your lips so plump. He despised how confident you were, always charging into everything in your life head first. What Chris actually liked, was that you challenged him. He knew that his infatuation with you wasn’t actually feelings, just raw and untamed lust. But fuck, with your lips against his, it made him want to change his mind.
The two of you clawed off each other’s clothes, discarding the clothing to the floor. Chris’s tongue swiped across your lower lip, before sliding inside. His kisses were rough and sloppy, your body addicted to the electricity he made run down your spine. You pushed him harshly against the bed, his back hitting the soft mattress underneath him.
You straddled him quickly, attempting to take control of the situation. Ever so slowly you grinded your wet cunt against his exposed shaft, a groan escaping his lips. Chris cockily put his hands behind his head, admiring you. “Go ahead, get yourself off just by grinding on me. You can do it pretty girl,” Chris instructed. You felt heat dash across your cheeks at the sound of his praise, your hips moving seemingly on their own.
Curses left your lips as you threw your head back. “Making me get myself off since you can’t do it? Figures,” You managed to say, your movements becoming more desperate. Chris leaned forward on his elbows, watching your cunt slide up and down his shift. “I’d watch your words ma, i’ll overstimulate you until you’re nothing but a cock craving whore,” Chris warned. His warning felt real, the threat in it seeking genuinely true. Even if you didn’t want to believe it.
Chris bit his bottom lip as you shamelessly grinded against him, every little movement providing pleasure to your clit. “You really think i’d fuck as many girls as I do if I couldn’t make them cum? I thought you were supposed to be smart,” Chris said coldly, mockingly tilting his head to the side. Your gaze landed back on the man beneath you, ignoring his cock in between your folds. “Yeah? I thought I was supposed to be overstimulated by now. What happened to that?” You challenged.
He was quick to change positions, your back landing against the mattress before you could think. He roughly spread your thighs apart, shoving two fingers into your cunt. A gasp of surprise was ripped from your throat, his spare hand resuming its place as your personal collar. Chris’s name spilled off of your lips as his fingers curled inside of you, his name becoming a sinful mantra. “What happened? Not so cocky now are we?” Chris taunted, watching you fall apart on his fingers.
The sight of you was enough to make his cock throb, his body craving attention. Chris remained focused, determined to corrupt you. “Open your fucking mouth slut,” Chris ordered. You so without a second thought, flattening your tongue across your bottom lip. He gripped your face harshly, leaning over and spitting into your mouth. “Swallow it,” He growled, watching you intently. You did as you were told, swallowing his saliva. You felt humiliated as it slid down your throat, the feeling euphoric.
“Thats a good girl, now why don’t you cum on my fingers for me? Hmm?” Chris asked. His words of praise made the rope inside of you snap, your orgasm washing over you without warning. Your vision went white, your thighs trembling as Chris removed his fingers from your aching cunt. You watched as he sucked them clean, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so.
Still coming down from your high, you put every last bit of energy into rolling your eyes. “Are you going to fuck me or just stare?” You asked. Chris’s cocky smile fell, replaced with a frown. “Nothings ever good enough for you, is it?” He replied, crawling on top of you. He brushed the tip of his cock up and down your folds teasingly, enjoying hearing you audibly whine for him. “Why’d you destroy my phone?” You asked, your coherent thoughts interrupted by him shoving himself inside of you.
You both moaned in unison, the unholy sounds vibrating off of the walls. “Why’d you decide to have phone sex in my house?” Chris gritted out, sliding himself further into you. He had more girth than you expected, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I asked you first dipshit,” You spat, fighting back a groan as he slid in further. Chris could feel your walls spasming around his cock, the sensation enough to make him cum right then and there. But he knew you’d never let him live it down.
“Yeah? Well I asked you second,” Chris replied, bottoming out inside of you. The tip of his shaft brushed against your g spot, the slightest movement of his hips making you whimper. “If you must know I wasn’t having phone sex, dumbass,” You said honestly. Chris pulled his hips back at a teasing rate, entertaining the argument. “Yeah? So what were you doing?” He questioned, doubting what you were saying. His hips bucked back into yours, hitting your g spot purposefully slow. He was drawing his thrust out, enjoying the sight of you squirming beneath him.
“I-I was thinking of you, alright? Now are you going to fuck me or what?” You rambled, embarrassed by your confession. Chris paused for a moment, soaking in your words. He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. “Is that so? Well, I destroyed your phone because I got jealous. You belong under me, just like this, taking my cock,” Chris purred, ignoring the embarrassment of his own confession. He pulled back slightly, allowing the two of you to make eye contact.
Out of breath and desperate, both of you panted as you stared into each other’s eyes. “Well, in that case, you better get on with it,” You said weakly. The same cocky smile that you hated plastered across his lips, his hips bucking into yours quickly. Your nails dug into his back as his hips continued to slam into yours, his cock buried inside of your cunt. Chris couldn’t hold back his own groans, your walls milking his cock dry.
With glazed eyes he met your gaze, relishing in the sound of your groans, chanting his name. “Open your mouth for me,” He ordered, his cock abusing your cervix. Chris enjoyed that you didn’t hesitate, obeying him without a second thought. He put two fingers into your mouth, shoving them as far back as he could. “Now fucking suck them slut,” He growled. With each degrading word you squeezed him harder, your body snitching on your hidden desire.
“You look so pretty like this, when you aren’t yapping that mouth of yours,” He huffed. A painful whine came from his lips, your nails purposefully digging deeper into his back. You pathetically bobbed your head up and down on his fingers, concealing your smirk as you heard him in audible pain. Chris slithered his spare hand down to your cunt, drawing fast and sloppy circles around your clit.
“Go on, cum for me. Cum on my cock like the good girl you are for me,” Chris panted. The extra sensation was enough to make you throw your head back, Chris’s fingers still lodged in your mouth. Your warning of your orgasm was muffled, your thighs shaking violently under him. The sight was going to be burned into Chris’s memory forever, the feeling of your cunt spasming around him giving him an undeniable ego boost. He fucked you through your orgasm, becoming preoccupied with chasing his own.
His fingers roughly grabbed your waist, fucking you rougher. “Shit, i’m gonna cum,” He admitted. Chris watched, mesmerized as his cock slid in and out of your cunt. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his hips beginning to stutter. You grabbed him by his throat, dragging him towards you. You put your mouth next to his ear, smirking as you told him, “Inside of me.”
You filthy fuck. For the first time your name fell from Chris’s lips as he came, his warm seed flooding your cunt. In unison you both tried to catch your breath, Chris carefully slipping out of you. The room was silent, besides desperate breathing, a knock came from Chris’s door.
“Yeah?”
“Your uh, doordash is here dude,” Matt said awkwardly. You could hear him place a bag in front of his bedroom door. “Thanks,” Chris replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
“Hey Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time maybe fuck a little quieter, Nicks pretty pissed.”
You exchanged glances with Chris, watching as he shoved on a shirt.
“You heard him, be quiet next time,”
“Next time? There won’t be a next time. Mr.I lasted thirty seconds.”
The sound of you two bickering made Matt roll his eyes, causing him to walk away. He wondered if you both would ever get married, or if you both would hate fuck forever. He shrugged at the idea, heading back downstairs. All Matt knew for sure, was that your moans made him cum the hardest he ever had. And that, was enough for him.
#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x y/n#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut
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Survival 101 :
Buckle up your seatbelt darling because this is going to be triggering and one hell of a ride. Don't expect mushy from me. Might do it when tapped in my soft girl era but today I feel like a Villain.
1) Keep your mouth shut where you don't hold the power. No power no expressed opinions that can put you in trouble.
2) Learn manipulation and seduction skills. This will help you to detect when someone is trying to manipulate and seduce you. Saves a lot of drama and heartache.
3) Fight back strategically. We don't want to lose a job, a degree certificate, a bruise on your body,etc depending on your situation.
4) Facts over emotions. Always.
5) 90% of older men are creepy. Speaking from experience here. Play with them by ear. Get what you want by being polite and respectful but if they try to harass you or take advantage we turn Medusa on them or if you are not in a position to fight and walk out safe just play cutesy and shy and dumb. Ask him what he means and do not take a word said by him seriously. Dodge his advances like your life depends on it until you get an opening to run for the hills.
6) Snap out of delusions and pay attention to reality. People are not what you make them out to be they are what they show you. Stop making excuses for them.
7) Anxiety can be crippling. Panic attacks are the worst but no matter what happens try your level best to never show them publicly. Men are vultures and vulnerable women are easy prey for men.
8) That one friend who is all sweet to you and is your bff but anything positive happens in your life and suddenly starts becoming passive aggressive. Not your friend. Don't share any secrets. Best to be kept as an acquaintance.
9) Develop sarcasm and don't be afraid to put self entitled bitches and bastards in their place. Better being called a 'Mean Girl' over a 'Doormat'.
10) Bully back the bullies. It's 2024 sweetie we don't wait for an opportunity for revenge we fucking create it.
11) No matter how tough your life is going everyone shouldn't be getting a broadcast about it. At least not by your own mouth. Try to act as put together as you can.
12) Kindness is virtue but being apathetic saves you. Don't be the fool who bleeds through the stabs of the same knives again and again. "Because I can't see them in pain. I have a heart." Babygirl you have a life too. All that emotional stress is going to result in some serious problems in the upcoming years.
13) Learn when to quit. The most emotionally intelligent people I know are great quitters. They know when it's the end of an era.
14) Never disclose your family issues to outsiders. Until and unless a person has proved their loyalty to you year after year only those selected one or two people should know your domestic issues. Anyone else knowing it is like having a good gossip for tea time.
15) Lastly, there are no fucking saviours in real life. You are your own saviour.
#dark feminine energy#divine feminine#gaslight gatekeep girlboss#girlblogging#glow up#it girl#self care#self love#that girl#toxic parents#toxic people#trauma survivor#survival#it girl aesthetic#that girl aesthetic#becoming that girl#becoming her#wellness#mental health#motivation#girl blogger#self help#self improvement#dark femininity#pink pilates girl#pink pilates princess#ash-says#coquette#level up#level up journey
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Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 8
Word Count ~ 4.6k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ sexual content, slight breeding kink, body horror, minor violence
Also available on AO3
taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific @yoongiwantsme @that-0ne-simp
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
You always have to be extra careful when one of the Sverchzt sisters is asking to enter the building.
Twins, and both of them nearly identical, save for the location of the mole on the cheek: on the right for Selenne, the left for Elenois. Both employed as models, with the same hourglass figures, full, painted lips, long lashes, and breathy voices accented with something exotically European sounding. You always feel very plain and lacking around them; it was like being back in school again as the shy, unpopular girl, envying the pretty cheerleaders that seemed to have it all.
But you don’t feel inadequate today, still buoyed up from your feelings of being with Francis’ doppelgänger all weekend. You look over the identification card and entry request, finding everything in order. The elegant woman is on the day’s list of expected entrants, too. You’re nearly ready to hit the switch to grant her access into the apartments, still reminiscing about your fiancé, when something in you, some sixth sense kicking in, cautions you that you should probably call the apartment, just to be certain. There is nothing visually you can identify that is incorrect about the haughty woman on the opposite side of the glass, who is now folding her arms across her ample chest, the polished nail of an index finger tapping against the porcelain skin of one slender forearm. An impatient gesture you’ve seen Selenne make before, dozens of times. Nothing suspicious about the documents, either. But still, you feel it is better to be safe than sorry.
You already know all the residents’ phone numbers by heart now, the quick four digit extensions granting you rapid access.
“Hello. Elenois speaking. My sister and I are both at home today. We are not expecting any visitors.”
“Thank you.” You keep your expression calm, hurriedly flipping the plastic shield down and depressing the button to sound the alarm, catching one last glimpse of the doppelgänger, the crimson polished nails now scratching at the glass pane, the eyes with the lids shadowed in lavender streaked and bloodshot, the plush lips parting to expose yellow fangs dripping spittle before the shutters finish descending. You phone the disposal team, still maintaining your composure.
Close. That had been too close. You had to concentrate. Focus.
The day progresses and you find yourself getting back into the rhythm of things. Wondering how your pretender beau had decided which members of his squadron to sacrifice, sending them to the building to meet their doom to throw the DDD off the trail. What would happen when the numbers dwindled, when there were none left to send? Did the faded mark he’d left behind still shield you? Or did it only make you more desireable, like what had happened with the replicant who looked like Izaack Gauss?
You’re picking at the peeling varnish of the battered desk during the afternoon lull when someone walks into the building and your heart stops.
Francis.
Not the original, and not your doppel, either. This one is nearly a dead ringer, except for the nose that’s not quite right, the tip slightly larger, the nostrils a little more flared.
It had never occurred to you that there would still be other versions of the milkman walking around. Where has he been all this time?
“Mmm…hello.” The customary greeting the genuine version had always adopted. He slides an ID card through the slot.
“Entry request?”
“I’m sorry, I forgot. Here it is.” The smile breaks your heart. His smile. Only not.
You stare at the document for long moments. Everything looks correct: the document expiration date present and set for the future; the serial number identical to what you have on file; the logo of your organization in plain sight; the stated reason for the alleged milkman’s absence logical. All of the elements appear as they should, save for that slightly mismatched nose in the photograph and entry request.
“Is there a problem?”
Your eyes lift to meet his. Why are you drawing this out?
“Your appearance,” you answer distractedly.
“Yes? What about it? Doesn’t it match the picture?”
You shake your head, reaching for the alarm button. “I’m sorry.” It’s foolish, being this sentimental. No reason for it. You know the real Francis is gone. You know it’s not the invader you’ve fallen for.
Alarm blossoms on the fake milkman’s features. His hands clasp together. “Wait, please…I’ll leave. Just…I don’t want to die.”
You freeze. This was new. The doppels always reacted with anger when their cover was blown. You’ve never had one beg for their life before.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
Was it true? Were there others that were willing to coexist peacefully? Had you incorrectly assumed they all sought the same goal, replacing humans and ruling over the planet, the one remarkable exception being your lover?
Or was this just a new tactic that they’d adopted, evolving, learning, adapting better to human weaknesses?
You had no way of knowing which it was.
“I can’t,” you say. “I’m sorry.” You slam your fist against the alarm switch before the replicant tries to escape, that same soft, pleading look haunting you as the shutter descends. The cleaners arrive and you cover your ears with your hands. You don’t want to listen to it. You can’t.
There are tears in your eyes when the figure in the yellow hazmat suit declares you are now able to return to your job.
***
The replicant milkman—yours, you note with relief—arrives later that afternoon, hastily adjusting the cap on his head, offering a brief glimpse of the perspiration from the heat outdoors lining his brow, his tousled brown locks damp, plastered against his forehead. He’s already smiling before he’s even reached the window, hurriedly thrusting his document and ID card through the slot, and something else, something that sounds metallic against the shallow stainless opening at the bottom of the window.
You reach for it, realizing what it is the second your fingers close over the object: your engagement ring.
The DDD had ceased its surveillance of the security booth, the resources and manpower needed elsewhere, apparently, so their is no longer the camera or the person watching it to worry about. You stare at the solitaire diamond, at the pretty filigree decorating the band on either side of it, and the tears that had been threatening to spill earlier come pouring out of you, a messy amalgamation of guilt and fear and relief releasing in that sudden cascade.
“Sweetheart, you like it that much? I’m so glad, I wasn’t sure…” His voice trails off. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
You shake your head, absently hitting the buzzer to let him in, then hitting its partner to shut the door behind him.
The door to the security booth opens. “Oh, Francis.” You throw your arms around his neck, burrowing along his shirt collar while he rubs soothing circles on your back.
“What is it, love?”
“I’ve had such a terrible day. I almost let in a doppel by mistake this morning, and just a little while ago there was a doppel that looked like Francis.”
“Sweet girl.” His arms tighten around you.
“He begged for his life, Francis. I’ve never seen that before. It was so difficult to call the team. But I had to. I had to do it. I didn’t know if he really meant he wouldn’t harm anyone, or if he was lying. I couldn’t risk him hurting the residents inside.”
“Of course you did, love.”
“How many copies of him are there? Just roaming around the city?”
“I don’t know. But it wasn’t Francis and it wasn’t me. They were just trying to trick you, and you didn’t fall for it. You did the right thing. I know it was difficult for you. I know why, love. I’m here now. I’ve got you.”
You remain in his arms, letting the comfort he’s offering seep into you. He does understand, better than anyone else ever could. After a time you draw back, sniffling. The ring is still clutched tightly in your fist. You relax your palm, spreading your fingers so you can admire the piece of jewelry again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. It’s lovely, Francis. Perfect.”
The imposter smoothes the last of the tears away and kneels down, gently plucking the ring from your right hand, then reaches for your left one, sliding the diamond band onto your ring finger and kissing the back of your hand.
The sound of a throat being cleared at the window interrupts the moment. You jump, startled. It’s the pilot.
“Dropping off more paperwork, doll?” Steven Rudboys grins, sliding his card and request form towards you.
You blush, aware of your fiancé rising to his feet beside you, frowning. Of course he doesn’t understand the reference, from that day when you’d visited the doppel so early on, when he’d slipped you the invitation to come to the apartment.
“I suppose congratulations are in order,” the man with the Mohawk says, his eyes lingering on the ring. “I always knew you two would end up together. Took you long enough, Mosses,” he adds, shooting the imposter milkman a sharp glance. “Don’t know what Afton and Stone are waiting for. I thought for sure they would’ve set a date by now. Bet you two don’t wait that long to tie the knot.”
Your cheeks are scarlet, your eyes focused on the documents, checking the day’s schedule. On the day’s list. A quick phone call just to confirm what you already know, allowing the man to enter the apartments once you’ve spoken to his father, heaving a sigh of relief when he’s finally gone from sight.
“I don’t like him,” the pretender says, his voice nearly a growl. “I don’t think Francis ever did, either. Too intrusive.” He turns his attention back to you. “Maybe not the best timing for the ring,” he observes ruefully.
“I’m sorry. I love it. Truly. It’s just been a very hectic, stressful day.”
“Don’t apologize. You have every right to be feeling that way. I think…I hope…I can help with that. Come see me as soon as you get off shift, okay? And be careful. If you need me, call.”
You nod, kissing him before he exits the booth and heads towards the elevator. You stretch your hand out, turning it slightly, watching how the light plays over the facets. It was official. You were engaged. You doubted it would take long for the rumor mill of the apartment building to circulate the news. Poor Francis. He’d be bombarded with well wishers and busybodies. Rudboys was probably going to keep at him mercilessly.
The rest of your shift passes by blessedly uneventfully. It is nearly time for your workday to end. Time to return to your lover waiting for you upstairs, the doppel you’re betrothed to.
***
You tap your knuckles on the door of apartment 3-02, greeted by the copy of the living space’s former owner.
He’s shed the troublesome cap, the ebony bow unknotted and draped around his neck, the first pair of buttons on his shirt undone. He smiles at you. “Hello, future Mrs. Mosses.”
“Hi. Can I come in?”
“Do you have proper identification?”
“I seem to have forgotten it.”
He clucks his tongue. “Then I can’t let you in, I’m afraid.”
“Do you accept bribes?”
His lips twitch. “Maybe.” The opening widens. “Come in here.”
You enter and the door closes behind you. “That was easy. I don’t think you’d make a good doorman,” you tease.
“No, but I make up for it elsewhere, don’t I?” He murmurs and you hum in agreement as he slides a hand around your waist, dragging you against him. “It’s torture being away from you. To go from having the weekend together to this long absence all day…” His lips touch yours, traveling to your neck.
“I know. I thought about you all day long.” Your hand rests on his chest. He covers it with his own, toying with the ring on your finger. A little room to move the band, but still secure around the digit. You didn’t wear jewelry often, but the size you’d told him had been the correct one. “I love it, Francis.”
“I’m glad.” Another kiss on your mouth. “I’m hungry for you, love.”
You feel it in his kisses. No longer gentle. Tongue stroking yours roughly. Teeth nipping. You cross the hallway to the bedroom with your fiancé. Unfastening clothing. Yours. His. Impatient to be naked. A button tears from your blouse. “I’ll mend it later,” you say distractedly.
Your back is tucked against his chest, the pair of you standing before the dresser mirror. Your breathing is loud, nearly as loud as his. You would have been mortified to be making so much noise even a month ago. But you have no reason to hide it now. You’re engaged. No one on this floor was going to pretend they didn’t know what goes on with young couples behind closed doors. You’ve heard Afton and Stone going at it before. Not nearly as often or as loud as you and your doppel, though.
You’re about to bend to slide your thigh high nylons off but the copycat halts you, his hand clasping yours above the scalloped lace edge that clings to your leg.
“Leave them on for me? I like them.” He snaps a garter belt playfully, dragging a hand over your lace panties. Something else that was new. You normally wore sensible undergarments beneath your work clothes. But now you had someone to admire what clung to your intimate places. He caresses the space between your legs through the delicate fabric, dragging his hand up to begin massaging your breasts encased in a matching brassiere. “Gorgeous. So beautiful, love.” His mouth worries along your shoulder.
“Are you going to mark me again?”
A pause, his hands and lips freezing. “Do you want me to?”
The low pitch of his voice drags across your core. You’re still frightened of it. But you want it, all the same. You want this creature to claim you. “Yes. Do you?”
The doppelgänger’s lips are by your ear. “Yes, love. But you shouldn’t watch…”
Your eyes meet his in the mirror. “I want to. I want to see you…”
“Sweetheart…” Hesitant. Perhaps more afraid than you are. To be seen. Exposed. To let the monster off the leash, as it were. Allowing the demon within out to play.
“I trust you.”
He moans softly against your hair. “Are you sure? Are you absolutely certain?”
“I love you.”
A whimper. The thing inside anxious to be let out, scratching and gnawing at the bars of its enclosure, that barrier of human flesh that had once belonged to Francis Mosses. Nails raking across your abdomen. Not enough to puncture the skin, still careful, the barest scrape of the unsheathed claws you can just see emerging now. Tearing at the fabric covering your sex, the material fraying, the embroidered threads coming loose. The crown of chocolate hair lifts and you see his eyes: the doppel’s eyes, peering at your from behind Francis’ sleepy dark ones. Red like blood, like the vessels that burst in surrender, like the lining of those shadowed lower lids. The white sclera of the orbs iridescent, shimmery, identical to the outline of the alien creature clutching you, an unsteady shift in the very particles and atoms that comprise him, things unseen, things not meant to be viewed by a mortal eye. The neat ivory teeth no longer tame incisors and molars, but transformed, sharp like the cuspids of a vampire, ravenous, the drool dripping from them onto your skin.
It is still not what he truly is; that monster well concealed, struggling to maintain control in this tenuous bridged state, not quite one or the other, partly human, partly doppel. What remains of your panties are shoved down, his leaking cock pressing against the curve of one cheek of your buttocks. He pushes against you and you grasp the edge of the dresser, the stained and varnished wood supporting you at a slight angle as he guides his erection inside of you.
Your body is already gushing arousal, welcoming him in. You catch sight of your heaving chest in the mirror, your lingerie encased breasts lifting and straining to burst free, much like the replicant thrusting into you.
He says your name, and it is not Francis’ voice at all. This a summons from deep within, heavy, full of gravel, dragging across your flesh like sandpaper. The wavering, mirage-like border of his pulsing frame feels hot, sticky. Your lashes flutter. The bottles of cologne lining the dresser’s surface tumble down. So deep. He’s so deep inside of you. Shoved in to the hilt each time. And still you want him even further. Impossible. But you crave it. That complete violation. Was this what it felt like to be taken over? You’d imagined it to be painful, terrifying. Instead it was sheer bliss. Your eyes link with his through the oval shaped looking glass once more.
“More, please, Francis…”
He jerks you away from the dresser, still impaled on his cock. Here is the pain you’d anticipated, that searing kiss of teeth piercing your shoulder, sucking the skin over the bone, a burst of stars in front of your eyes, fireworks ricocheting within you as you come undone, your insides splashed with something molten, soaked with your lover’s release. Wet skin, wet pussy, drenched prick, sweat and cum and that thin trail of blood seeping from the wound he’s created, laving rapturously at the taste of you, that very human taste in his very inhuman mouth.
His body shudders against yours. Aftershocks, not from orgasm but the shift back to how he appeared before, the glow dissipating, eyes cleared and gentling, the sharp hooks tipping each finger a replica of Francis’ blunt edged nails once more. Only a few red welts betray those nightmare claws’ existence, where he had become a little too lost in the passion, tattooing the soft flesh of your abdomen. The door to the invader’s cage is sealed shut once again. You hold him upright as much as he holds you steady, slipping free from your entrance, the hot spill of seed leaking down your thighs, seeping into the stockings. You can feel the tremors still spasming, your own nerves quivering with the remnants of pleasure, echoing against you as your lover’s body shares the same sensation. The panting breaths grow quieter. The sound of the Rudboys’ television next door disturbs the stillness. You’d completely missed the audio cue of the curfew horn.
“Sweet girl.” It’s all he can seem to manage, this whispered into your hair. It’s the milkman’s voice again, but it sounds raw, raspy. The vocal chords had been strained, never meant to produce the sounds they had earlier.
You rest your hand on the one clutching your abdomen, the glint of your engagement ring winking, a stubborn sparkle in the glow of the lamp, struggling against the growing darkness in the room as the day’s natural light fails beyond the curtained window.
***
The blackberry jam, pulled from the refrigerator several hours later, is perfect.
Perhaps one of the best batches you’ve ever tasted. You’ve snuck a sample from the unsealed mason jar, unable to wait. You’re already imagining how good that flavor will be when it’s smoothed over the biscuits you’re making with your doppelgänger, his fingers kneading the dough mixture you’ve just created. There is a stray bit of flour dusting his nose where he’d absently stroked an itch along the bridge and you wipe it clear, the touch becoming a lingering caress. He pauses, fingers still dug into the dough, looking at you with that same kind of wonder as he had earlier, after the incident in the bedroom.
As if he cannot believe what you’d asked for, accepted so willingly, eagerly; of the control over his true form he’d been able to maintain, keeping you safe.
Pats of butter melt quickly on the sliced biscuits pulled from the oven. You’re sweating. You need a shower after this for certain. You slather on a generous layer of the sweet fruit spread, offering a bite to your fiancé. He chews, nodding approvingly. There is a stray bit of jam on the corner of his mouth. You cannot resist lapping at it. Licking his mouth open. Tasting the sweetness there. Marveling at how quickly the desire is rekindled. Perhaps you would never be sated. Always this ache, this gnawing want in your center.
Drenched in the shower together. Back out again. Night sounds through the open window. The measured footsteps of a patrol. Soft chatter. A dog barking. You miss your farmhouse. The crickets and the scent of lilac blossoms and your lover in your bed, on cotton sheets that smell like the outdoors, hung on the line to dry in the clear air.
“Francis,” you murmur, your mouth tracing the outline of the crest of one hip, you hand curled around the other. Tasting the soap on his skin, the slight masculine musk as you wander along his groin, swiping your tongue across his cock.
Your shoulder throbs, pulsing in time with the neediness within. You want it again already. Not just the sex, but the other. A strange kind of addiction developing.
Your pussy aches to be filled again. You suck his erection and moan, hastily tucking your hair out of the way. Ravenous. An animalistic slobber. Lips loose. Shoving down as far as you can tolerate. Past it. Insistent, fucking your throat with his dick.
A little gasp of surprise from the doppel. “Easy, love. Don’t waste it. Want to…”
You release his spit soaked member, planting wet kisses back up his stomach, his chest. Crawling over his body until you reach his mouth. “What do you want, Francis?” Your voice a whisper, matching his.
“Oh love, you know what I want.” This huffed beside your cheek. You’re teasing kisses along his jaw, nipping at an ear lobe.
“Tell me. Tell me how you want to fill me up. With your cock. With your cum. Breed me, make a baby…”
You don’t know where the words come from. Another gasp. A growl. You want to impale yourself on him but it’s not the ideal position for getting pregnant. You allow him to shift, moving your body with his, pinning you beneath him.
“Is that what you want, sweet girl?” His hands press into the pillow beneath your head. There are a proper quartet of them now, piled plush cushions for you and your alien lover.
“Yes. Please, Francis…”
His knee parts your legs. Pressure. He’s inside you.
Your head lifts off the pillow and he captures your lips, pressing you back down. Working inside of you slow and steady, fucking you back open.
“There you go, love.” His mouth gentle on yours.
“I need…”
“What? What do you need?”
Your shoulder is on fire. “I want you to mark me again.”
“No, love. It’s too soon for that.” You feel him shake his head, the faint stir of air beside your cheek with the motion.
“It felt so good.”
“I know.”
“Put the light on, then? Let me see you. Let me see what’s inside…”
“No.” His voice loud now, his hips still against yours. “No, it’s too risky.”
“You can control it. I know you can. I trust you.”
“You don’t understand.”
“So explain it to me.”
“Sweetheart, I can’t. Not now.”
“Why not?”
“Because…”
“Because why?”
“Because I’m afraid,” he confesses against your neck. “You’ve no idea the strain. The desire to tear free. It would destroy Francis’ body. The urge to devour you…” He kisses your throat softly. “Let me love you like the man I appear to be.”
“I love you. You, what’s inside.” You touch his cheek.
“I know, love. And the way that makes me feel is indescribable. I don’t need to be out of this body to experience it. I adore you, sweet girl. Let me show you how much. Like this,” he says, his hips lifting and pressing, guiding his cock back into your hollow.
Your pelvis arches to receive him. It scares you how much you want him. Your body shakes with the intensity of that desire. Craving that violence, that feeling of teetering on the brink of destruction. His, yours. The human mouth on your shoulder. Sucking. Kneading with teeth that aren’t nearly sharp enough. But it stirs whatever he’s injected you with. A venom, a toxin, not poisonous, not lethal, but a chemical that you need more of. Bringing you closer to what you’re so desperate for. It doesn’t take you long to climax, the doppel’s own release close behind. He lifts your hips and legs, propping them against his chest, keeping his seed deep inside you, stroking along your stomach.
Willing there to be a spark of life there, the way all life has begun, according to the words in the holy book still sitting on the nightstand, a burst of light in the darkness.
***
Another day at the DDD security window.
The doppelgängers have been clumsy so far. Woefully inept at replication. You didn’t need specialized training to recognize the imposter for the shoemaker with a mustache as a fake, a single eye in the center of his forehead making Albertsky Peachman look like a cyclops. The clone of the mother of the student living on the second floor had correctly replicated the placement of the blue and green irises, but the phony Nacha Mikaelys’ jaw was strangely formed, the flesh pulpy and uneven, making it appear like oatmeal.
The best part of your workday arrives on schedule, slipping a new gift into the slot this time. “Tickets to the theater for this Sunday. I know it’s not the movie you mentioned, but…”
You grin. You can’t even remember the last time you’d gone to see a movie. And now you’d be seeing it with your fiancé. “Casablanca! Oh, it’s wonderful. I have something for you, too.” You exchange an open envelope with the doppelgänger.
He slides the contents free, unfolding the letter and scanning it quickly, a smile lighting his features. “They’ve invited us to see them.”
You nod, still beaming, watching the invader tuck the letter from your parents back into the envelope. “We’ll visit the following weekend.”
“I look forward to it. Still nervous, but looking forward to it. How was your day, love?”
“It went well. Yours?”
“Better now.” Another smile. “I’ve got another surprise, too. Left it in the truck because I was anxious to see you. I’m making dinner tonight. Well we’re probably making dinner. I’m not optimistic about Francis’ cooking skills,” he adds, lowering his voice.
You couldn’t blame him for doubting it. The man’s pantry and refrigerator had been nearly empty, and you had the feeling it wasn’t just because he’d been overdue for a trip to get groceries.
Thinking of the solitary, simple life of the milkman rinses the joy from your features. No real family to speak of, either, according to the doppelgänger, save for a cousin that he’d had little to no contact with. He really had been alone in the world. Isolated. You could have done something about that. You should have. But it was too late now. And you had your doppelgänger instead. The being your heart was so full for.
“Love?” The replicant sees the change in your expression, frowning now.
“I’m okay. Yes, I’ll help you cook. It sounds fun.” You’re not relishing the thought of working over a hot stove in that stuffy third floor living space, longing for the upcoming change in the weather. But you like the idea of working beside your partner. Preparing a meal. And what would come after.
The bite on your shoulder throbs, reminding you.
#francis mosses#francis mosses x reader#francis mosses x you#milkman#milkman x reader#milkman x you#thats not my neighbor#doppelganger#that’s not my neighbor#the milkman
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You’ve been sneaking into Kenma’s room for years.
It started when you were very young, having left your gameboy at Kenma’s house after a few rounds of Mario. You managed to toss a few rocks at his window, and once he silently unlocked the door and let you in, you quickly scurried back out hours later with a grateful smile.
Then, you started to sneak through his window. Seeing the flashes of lights at god knows what hours was something you knew meant he was awake, and you’d climb out from your sheets and crossed the street to his place. Again, you’d throw rocks at his window, and when he’d tried to go open the door, he hadn’t expected you scale up the large tree just a few feet away.
Tonight was no different; he’s tapping away wildly on his console while you scurry up the tree in your slippers, smooshing your face against the glass when he finally sees you and opens the window.
You’d finally tumbled in, and he gave you a tired sigh, “you’re annoying.”
“And you’re still playing. I wanted to watch you play.”
“You could’ve just texted me. You left marks on my glass.”
“I needed the exercise. What time do you need me out of here?”
“Kuroo drags me by the ankle out of here by 06:30. Be out beforehand.”
You smirk and nudge his shoulder with yours, causing him to send you a glare before sitting back down on the floor. “Sleep on the bed, help yourself to pajamas.”
“You like him, kenma,” you tease. You see him tense up before he shakes his head.
“No,” he says simply. “I don’t. Not like that anyways.”
“Just not used to you having other friends besides me,” you hum. He huffs in annoyance.
“Are you gonna watch, or do I have to kick you out of my room?”
“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll behave. Only because I hate climbing your tree.”
Kenma doesn’t like Kuroo. Honest! He thinks he’s cute, sure, gets why the girls like him and boys follow him around, he’s fine enough on a scale of emotional and physical attraction.
But Kuroo’s not the one Kenma’s eyes stay focused on. It’s you.
You’re funny, he likes the way you eat foods that you don’t like first, before diving into the favorites after to savor them. You’re cute, and you’re bad at the differences between contexts of words, and you have a little eye twitch that bestows you in a moment of quick thoughtfulness.
You don’t ask him why he’s up so late, you ask him the answers to homework and give him gummy worms as a thank you. You never overstay a welcome, always either leaving before the sun comes up, or staying quiet while you sleep on the bed.
He likes the way your eyes shine when you’re excited, the roll of your eyes when he tells you “no” when you want the answer to be “yes”, the little snickers that slip out at Kuroo’s expense at Kenma’s quick thinking.
“Kenma?”
“Im busy.”
“I want to cuddle.”
The way you want physical touch when you’re tired.
Yeah. As your best friend, he really is bias to that one.
With a groan, he pauses and saves his game under slot 3, shuts down the console before crawling up and into his bed next to you, the cold sheets shooting his nerves until they warm under your shared warmth. You bury your nose in his collar and he takes out his phone for you both to watch tiktok.
“Kenma?”
“Go to sleep.”
“When you marry Kuroo, can I be the ring bearer?”
“If i marry Kuroo, I want you far, far from my ceremony.”
He practically hears you pout, “you’re no fun.”
“I sure am not.”
For someone who has no fun, not one fun bone in his body, he’s amazed at how comfortable you are in his grip and he in yours, fingers fisting his nightshirt until his own eyes grow heavy.
And if Kuroo walked in just a few hours later at 06:30, only to see his best friend cuddling with someone he loves most, he didn’t say anything and closed the door softly behind him.
#I wanna watch kenma play video games man 🥺#kenma kozume#kenma kozume fluff#kenma kozume x reader#kenma kozume x reader fluff#kenma kozume x gn!reader#kenma kozume imagine#kenma kozume haikyuu#kenma#kenma fluff#kenma x reader#kenma x reader fluff#kenma x gn!reader#kenma imagine#kenma haikyuu#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x gn!reader#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x yn
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gojo buys you new lipgloss so you can smear it all over his dick later.
he’d be sitting manspread with that dumb sly grin. cerulean irises of his avert towards your pretty plump lips. he brings a thumb towards your bottom lip, pulling it down before speaking in a playful raspy tone. “so shiny. look at that mouth.” and he squeezes your lips together before watching you dig your knees into the ground, preparing to start. your lips part, formulating on what to say next before gojo cuts you off with a snicker. “ah. no talking, princess. save that for later.”
you’d nearly moan, glancing down at his tip that was stood tall right in front of your face — a perfect view. so thin and lengthy, he had girth for miles.
gojo intakes a single breath the moment he feels you give his tip a sweet kiss. a sweet little, ‘mwah’ left from your glossed lips, and you repeat it because you watch how gojo’s demeanor suddenly changed.
your lip gloss started to coat the frenulum part of his length, and he could only imagine what it’d be like once he was fully down your throat. “fuck,” he’d rasp out, momentarily swirling your tongue against his leaky tip. gojo then maintains a grip on the crown of your head, spreading his legs just a tad bit more. “yeah. just like that,” and then he strokes the outline of your jaw, his left thigh starting to bounce. “now, open nice ‘n wide for me. stick out that tongue too. heh. don’t be shy girl, ‘s just me.”
he was so gentle with his strokes against your jaw, slender fingers making contact with your skin.
you whine, feeling yourself throb between your legs. he leers intently as you sink your throat down on his cock.
it was sweet at first, how you lightly parted your lips — slowly taking him in your mouth.
not even milliseconds go by and saliva starts to trickle past your lips. he groans, feeling the warmth of your throat swallow him. once he reaches the roof of your mouth, you briefly gag, lashes fluttering as you look up at him.
“it’s okay princess,” he says with a hint of tease behind his tone. “get it wet f'r me. love me a wet ‘n sloppy m-mouth.”
you’re munching at first, gradually taking him in.
he grows abnormally quiet—watching your every move, he slips off a sweet moan the moment he feels your tongue swirl over his frenulum for the umpteenth time.
he was forevermore incredibly sensitive there.
it made him kiss his teeth with his head going marginally back. your wet mouth, he starts heaving and heaving. by this point, it was no point for him to suppress his moans. especially with a tongue as sloppy as yours.
“mhm,” he breathes, and your throat was entirely filled with nothing but his thick inches. you bring a hand towards his base, softly massaging his hefty balls and he lets off an even louder moan. it comes out to a mere whine though, muttering out a, “f-fuck. handsy girl. keep— keep touchin’ me there. see what happens.”
it’s cute on how he’s trying to keep up his tough facade, yet he’s no match. the outer parts of your lips skim all against the edges of his dick. you feel a few veins that coated on his shaft throb on your tongue.
gojo pulls out for a second, smacking his fat tip on your tongue, smearing his cock all over your lips.
he swallows, watching how your lip gloss runs all over his cock head now. his breathing hitches, and with a cute tap on the side of your cheek, you open up your mouth again and he eases right back in.
“such a sloppy girl,” he groans, lapping your tongue against his tip again. his pre-cum, the few remnants that resided at least tasted bitter. a mixture of sweet and bitterness—you reach down to play with yourself but it’s like gojo already knew. “don’t even,” and your hand comes to a halt. he moves strands away from your face before watching you bobble your head up and down, up and down in an orderly fashion. “leave her alone. she’ll get some attention soon too, don’t worry baby.”
the pout you give him after being denied to touch yourself he snickers. you place your hand back down, and even to near his base. it was all smothered with the sheeny material of your lip gloss.
gojo’s head tilts back, feeling himself getting closer and closer towards the edge. you’re fondling with his base in the process.
you took him fully, breathing through your nose. after each sloppy downward stroke—you start to seep throat for a few seconds, strands of spit running down your chin and decorating your chest. it was such a sight, a picture he’d probably envision in his mind for the rest of his life. your plump lips thrashed roughly near his abdominal wall. just right above the head of his dick.
every few seconds, you pause to take a fresh gasp of air. your tongue wriggles against his tip, a soft thumb stroking against his sack before he whines.
“g-gonna cum,” he whimpers, his voice sweet and pitchy. gojo’s cock starts to swell. all stiff and full of nothing but prepared cum for you. he couldn’t wait to paint the back of your throat with his color, the thought made him swallow hard. your timing was perfect, stroking his balls and focusing all your attention of his cock. his pretty white lashes flutter and his abs that hide underneath his shirt tightens. “ba—by..” he croaks out in a horse voice, and once he came it was so much. his ears rang and your lips wrapped around his dick perfectly.
the minute gojo came, his cock’s buried a in your throat — your maw was dangled open, and you happily remained there while he filled your mouth.
pretty hooded eyes stared at you, and he’s got a grip on your head still, ropes of velvety cum trickling into your mouth. it shoots out real slow, you pause, breathing through your nose once more before waiting until his done. then you swallow, a small gulp before lolling out your tongue to show him.
“such a nasty good g-girl,” he stammers, giving your head an abrupt head pat. gojo’s huffing and puffing before he strokes his dick right in front of your face, feeling the slickness all around it. “your lip gloss. ‘s everywhere. heh. definitely worth the fifteen dollars.”
#★vegasbaby.#i just wanna suck his balls#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo x you#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#anime smut#female reader#jjk x you#jjk drabbles
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